Timeless: a Wranduin Story (Wrathion x Anduin, Murozond x Kairozdormu)
by Flagfish
Summary: Years had passed since Anduin had last seen Wrathion; with Nozdormu's help, he ultimately finds his once-friend at an alternate timeline, where the Black Prince seeks help from a still-uncorrupted Neltharion in his quest to save Azeroth. Now a young priest of the Light, Prince Anduin is stunned by the revelation Wrathion had only hinted at subtly before. This is a love story.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I would love to find someone interested in roleplaying Warcraft lore, especially Wrathion/Anduin, though there are a lot of lore characters I like. I've had a very difficult time finding anyone interested in this, as WoW fangirls usually like RPing their OCs (which I'm not interested in doing). It's cool by me if you're not completely versed in the lore, I'm not a die-hard lore person, myself, and it's something you can read about a bit at a time as necessary. If you're over 18 and feel like giving it a go, please message me! _

XXX

"_This is where I die._"

Winds washed through the meadow like living ocean waves, like an invisible brush combing past the hills; high on the cliffs lining Nagrand, Kairoz was sat beside Murozond, they had a perfect view of it here. In his elven form, Kairoz's hair had grown very long, it swept to his feet when he walked, _like he'd lived forever—_ it was what happened to dragons who were so lost in time their beginning and end became figures of speech, without any real meaning _because they were infinite_.

Murozond, too, was _supposed_ to have died.

"Just there," he agreed, his voice serene and mild, _they had witnessed it countless times_. At certain moments it felt reality all around them flickered in-between the timeways, flashing to intervals of alternate worlds, like a stop-motion film where none of it was real; they witnessed the shimmering golden sand spiral from where Kairoz, in orc form, had fallen, how it dissipated intangibly into thin air, and there was a longing ache in it that pained him still now.

"_Nothing can stop us, not even time_," Murozond had said upon Kairoz's death, in his elven form he had cradled him like a whelp, his fingers on his face were gentle; they both felt so old they couldn't remember how they'd begun, _or maybe they were very young_, or maybe it didn't matter. Murozond's hair was long and dark, longer than Kairoz's, it poured forth and obscured his face when he leaned to kiss Kairoz's forehead.

It was an important point in time, _his passing_, because it had been a beginning, as well; reality flickered between them like they watched both outcomes at once, _Kairoz dies_ and _Kairoz lives_, the two timelines diverged from each other like unraveled threads from a rope.

_And this is where you save me_.

It might have been Murozond who spoke, or it might have been Kairoz, because it meant the same thing, either way; breath hovered suspended between them, unspoken whispers they drank from one another, their hands outlined in blinding bronze light in their embrace— something beautiful and terrible—

_—they both were the Timeless One_.

XXX

This wasn't what Wrathion had intended, but now that he'd found himself there, he couldn't retreat; some distance behind him, Anduin was stood with one hand on his staff, but what righteous declaration he might have made had died at his throat as he squinted against the cold sunlight. Two long shadows stretched in the snow where for once the crafty Black Prince stood undone.

The dark volcano behind Neltharion remained complacent, thin rivulets of molten rock streamed down its crevices and lines— _but it was a solid, powerful thing._

In this timeline, the black aspect was kind.

Wrathion's father was slender and tall, his black hair stick-straight as it batted shimmering behind him, the Obsidian Sanctum was a sacred place here; he'd had many, many sons, _but this one he didn't remember_.

Wrathion was only a drake, at the end of adolescence he had reached his full height in his human form, and, Anduin noticed, quite resembled his father— _his father in this timeline, who was handsome and strong_, a protective and cunning presence. Even with Wrathion's back turned to him, Anduin could tell he was pensive about doing this, he was viscerally afraid, like it were trauma ingrained into him he couldn't will away by choice.

"I come seeking your aid— _Father_."

He spoke the words clearly, though his tone wavered and he fought audibly for calm, for the aristocratic grace he employed to seduce and enchant when he _wanted something done_. There was little of that now; it was almost pitiful, something uncomfortable Anduin nonetheless forced himself to endure, there had always been wretchedness in the Black Prince which in his pride Wrathion had despised, and had fought to conceal it so it _wouldn't exist_.

Somehow, though Neltharion didn't recognize this young drake's face, _he knew he was his brood, he could smell it on him_; his robes bellowed in the wind on his approach, eyes glowing bright. Wrathion impulsively stepped back when his father's hand came gently on his chin, he tilted it up a bit to examine him, _like he could see his true form_; he didn't remark on the obvious question unspoken between them, _How is it that you are my son, but I do not know you at all?_

Instead, he said softly, "You are my son, but you are afraid. _I can smell it on you, little drake_."

All the resentment Anduin had harbored for his once-friend gave way to a protective impulse, already the Holy Word channeled in him as he'd begun to call for the Light; however, there was no need. Neltharion's words weren't intended in malice, but spoken rather as simple fact, and it was something impossible to deny or explain; the black aspect understood without asking, somehow this brood of his _had reason to be afraid_.

"I'm not..." Wrathion started, despite his tall stature he turned his gaze to Neltharion like a sulking whelp and said, "_I'm not all that little anymore_."

Anduin paused where he'd been channeling the Light inwardly, the soft white glow that lined him dissipated into the frozen air; he stared now with one eyebrow raised. _Here was a childish point that was very fondly nostalgic to him, there was tenderness in him to witness it somehow again_.

Neltharion, too, appeared taken somewhat off guard, because Wrathion had spoken the words like they alone proved his courage, he continued muttering aside about how _he was now a fully grown adult dragon, and had a number of impressive horns which were very intimidating and large_.

_Does he?_ Anduin wondered, before he caught himself actually interested in the subject, and inwardly chastised himself that such a thing was of little importance.

Last he'd seen Wrathion, he'd been two years old and just a little whelp, who took himself awfully seriously considering his small and adorable stature; however, he'd always been remarkably intelligent and sly, and his rather unintimidating appearance had been quite deceiving. _Had there been any doubt as to what in his shrewdness the small whelp was capable of, Anduin had learned better, the hard way_.

Neltharion, however, could guess at his son's approximate age, and could tell he was a drake at the largest, who still had a ways to go before reaching the full size of a wyrm— but this clearly seemed like a sore point, so he put the issue to rest. "Very well," he said instead, "in what matter does this son of mine seek his father's aid?"

They were words Wrathion had never expected to hear, and they bled through him with aching lament that threatened dangerously forth at the back of his throat; from behind him, Anduin watched his entire form stiffen in a useless struggle for composure, Wrathion's straight black hair rippled as he raised his chin almost in defiance of his own heart. _But his emotion betrayed him_, it was audible in his voice, which wavered only slightly as he forced forth the words.

"Where I come from, this world is on the verge of destruction— its salvation is a task left to me alone. _But here, Father, all through its ranks the black dragonflight lives to protect and watch over Azeroth, none but we could truly understand what it is to sustain the weight of this burden_."

All around, the frosted air trembled with the weightless fall of innocent snow, the little flakes descended feather-light on Wrathion's clothes and hair.

Some distance away, Anduin stood empty and hollow, the gilded bottom point of his staff sunk into the frozen earth. _The world... was on the verge of destruction...?_

He thought of Wrathion's words to him long ago, how _one day, he might see—_ but the secret he'd now inadvertently revealed had him still with cold sweat. _Just w__hat was he playing at ? What sorts of predictions were these?_

He'd not realized this all hurt partly because _here_, Wrathion felt, _was a burden no other could truly understand_.

_(On to Chapter 2)  
><em>

XXX

A/N: This story includes the following characters:

Wrathion  
>Anduin Wrynn<br>Jaina Proudmoore  
>Aethas Sunreaver<br>Neltharion  
>KairozdormuKairoz  
>Nozdormu<br>Murozond  
>Malygos<br>Alexstrasza  
>Ysera<br>Kael'thas Sunstrider  
>Dath'remar Sunstrider<br>Illidan Stormrage  
>KorialstraszKrasus  
>Queen Azshara<br>Lady Vashj


	2. Chapter 2

(A/N: If you feel a bit confused, please keep reading; all will be revealed, _in time_...)

XXX

"_No, this isn't how I die_," Murozond had said.

In the Time-Lost Glade, he knelt over Kairoz's form, his dark hair veiled him in its rippling fall; _he'd seen his own demise, and this wasn't it_. Kairoz, himself, had made possible for Murozond to save him.

_The infinite dragonflight existed in order to restore the bronze dragons' power, in order to stop Murozond's death_.

Which could not be prevented.

_But it didn't happen like this. _

This wasn't where he died, _but where his existence became possible_.

_His_, being Murozond, being Nozdormu, _being Kairoz_.

The sweet scent of grass wafted softly nearby, in his elven form Kairoz clutched his fingers in Murozond's back, he trembled with struggle and coughed sickly into the naked skin of his shoulder; Murozond held him and spoke like he would to a whelpling.

"_Shh..._" he said, "_There, beloved; nothing that cannot be mended by time.._."

XXX

The bronze and black dragonflights had made a pact; several years had passed on Draenor when Kairoz met again with the Black Prince, but to Kairoz it'd only been a short while. Wrathion could scent him when he came, _he'd not known another dragon's presence in years_, and stiffened in his bed when he'd been roused.

He'd stayed with Admiral Taylor in the Spires of Arak and had his own quarters, he'd bribed and charmed nearly every member of the staff to his bidding.

"_Finally found you, little whelp_," Kairoz spoke softly, he'd stealthed inside the tavern in a way Wrathion hadn't expected, his clawed hand slid round Wrathion's back and clamped over his mouth.

"_Unhand me_," Wrathion seethed with stifled annoyance, their eyes glowed in the dark of the room. While, to Kairoz, very little time had passed, he could see Wrathion was a grown drake now; in his human form he was slender and tall, his straight black hair fell to his shoulders.

"Or you'll what? Call your guards?" Kairoz's voice came smooth at his auricle, his hand trailed from his mouth to his chin, and he turned Wrathion's face toward him in order to have a good look.

"_It doesn't work in this timeline, Garrosh is lost to us_," he whispered, and Wrathion didn't let on whatever thoughts crossed his mind; by that point, Garrosh had worked well to unify a number of powerful orcish clans, who had even begun making way toward Azeroth— but Wrathion knew better than to doubt a Timekeeper. _He wanted to hear what he had to say_.

There were humans in this tavern, _they might overhear_; from behind Wrathion, Kairoz leaned in very close, just over his shoulder, somehow draconic even in his elven form; his fangs glinted in the darkness as he mouthed the words just at Wrathion's temple.

"_One Iron Horde was not enough. They were defeated too readily, before they became a real threat— and Garrosh met his demise at Thrall's hand_."

He spoke in past tense, but these things hadn't happened here yet; that was, _this was what would happen_, what Kairoz had seen.

"_Also_," he whispered, "_He slew me within moments of setting foot on Draenor_."

For some moments, Wrathion remained entirely still, his eyes glowed an unreadable red in the black of the room; at pleasantries and deceptive cordiality he was adept, he didn't let on whatever emotions this stirred in him.

"You're telling the truth," he said, this he believed, and it vastly annoyed him his plan failed again. _Garrosh slew Kairoz, but then fell at Thrall's hand? The Iron Horde was defeated too readily...?_

"No, that can't be right," he said, slowly thinking aloud, "Something here... something _doesn't add up_."

Somehow, Kairoz was compelled to agree; Garrosh was meant to play a greater part in this, and there was some piece missing, something that would have prevented Kairoz's death, _the one living creature immune to Garrosh's wrath_.

"There is no such creature alive in this world," Wrathion said, "or any other. This was not the correct route."

But even as he spoke, he _knew_ he was wrong; he had known somehow, even as a whelp, _that one day—_

"We leave here tonight," Kairoz said conclusively, he could feel Wrathion's rage begin to well, but turned his face toward him sharply; "_You want your plan to work, don't you?_" he whispered with quiet impatience, "_Tonight, Murozond—_"

_Tonight, Nozdormu—_

"But if Garrosh slew you, then how? How was the infinite dragonflight _possible_?"

"You mean, how were infinite timelines possible? How was an infinite number of _Iron Hordes_ possible?"

"How are _you_ possible? How are you still alive?"

"We'll go farther back," Kairoz mouthed, his voice now almost inaudible, "_We'll make them possible. We'll seek help from the only dragonflight who still have their titan powers_."

_Because they'd not been invested in the dragon soul_.

"A charming notion, _Kairozdormu_," Wrathion's laugh came low and amused, "_But unless you'd forgotten, I'm the last of my kind_."

"Surely you're clever enough to figure this out," Kairoz said, "We'll go farther back than that."

"_Farther _back?" Wrathion chuckled bitterly, "To before I had them slain? Have you forgotten _why_ I had them slain?"

_But then he understood: farther back, to before they became corrupt_.

He remained silent for a long time.

"_But even uncorrupt... my father..._" he trailed off, the fear for once audible in his voice; his first impulse was to say that, surely, even uncorrupted, Neltharion must be immune to Garrosh's wrath— _but if Garrosh slew Kairoz..._

"No," Kairoz said, "_there is one living creature who would not incur his wrath in the first place_. "

It wasn't Neltharion.

_Tonight, Murozond would take them back. _

_And tonight, Nozdormu would—_

XXX  
><em><br>_

Jaina only ever knew one person who developed weapons with resistance to mind control; she wondered if she'd have shown Prince Kael'thas greater gentleness had she known he'd fancied her at the time, and if she wasn't already dating Arthas then. None of that mattered now, Kael was _before _the Sunreavers, and, as it were, she found herself again bickering with Sunreaver mages just outside the Caverns of Time.

Nozdormu was stood as a living barrier between her and Aethas Sunreaver, they circled him like two angry beasts and threatened each other with spells.

Prince Anduin was in trouble with Jaina, that was for sure, he'd had _some balls_ to mind control the head of the Kirin Tor into casting a portal for him, to get to the Caverns of Time. Several years had passed since Garrosh had nearly crushed every bone in his body, he'd never fully healed; still in his early twenties, he had sharp pains in his right leg from a slipped vertebral disc.

He'd grown handsome and tall, and had mastered not only the Light, but the shadows, as well, in a way that vastly irritated Jaina, _that night in particular_.

He'd only used it rarely, to be fair; the Light was his true calling.

_But this night he was desperate_.

He'd lost her trust for sure, this much he could tell, and his heart ached for it; she'd finally caught Aethas by the collar of his robes and asked _if he wanted to be taken to the Violet Hold again_.

Aethas paused, visibly frightened, _maybe because he was really very young_—

_Or maybe because he'd never wanted Jaina to be so angry with him—_

"All right," he said, he didn't try to blink away from her; "_all right, you can have it—_"

_Don't tell Lor'themar. Don't tell Rommath_.

It was a bit hard to focus with her so close, and so_ angry_, he was genuinely frightened while thinking back to the time she'd got him imprisoned_—_

_When he only ever wanted her affection_.

There was uncanny elegance in the way he wove the spell into manifestation, a shimmering staff materialized in a flash of crystalline lights, and Jaina's eyes narrowed with suspicion that he'd just _hand it over_.

"The Staff of Disintegration," she said, but didn't reach to take it; her attention diverted momentarily to Anduin, but she never moved her gaze from Aethas. "You're in a lot of trouble, mister," she said to Anduin, "Once your father hears what you did—"

"_Aunt Jaina, please—_" Anduin asked, now in his early twenties _but still a little boy inside_; the words had Aethas waver, he glanced him momentarily and then turned his gaze back to her_. Aunt_ sounded so _strange_.

"No _please_," Jaina replied, "Do you realize what you might have done? You can't just_—_" She waved one hand in the air for emphasis, "_—make use_ of a licensed mage's powers_—_"

"If you will, Lady Proudmoore," Nozdormu finally spoke, _like they'd all forgotten he was there at all_; he sounded almost apologetic. "_Prince Anduin's presence is of dire importance_."

Finally, Jaina paused.

"_...I beg your pardon...?_" She asked, not having expected to hear it from Nozdormu, himself; she'd thought he'd certainly prevent and bar Anduin from the Caverns of Time, up till then she'd been glad he was there as a potential voice of reason.

"His presence is of crucial importance? Where?"

"You mean, _when_," Nozdormu corrected, and immediately she understood here was something intended _discreetly_, because Varian would never permit his son to go, _because it was very dangerous—_ but Nozdormu still insisted.

"_When?_" she repeated, "What do you mean, _when_? How can a time portal be opened?" The bronze aspect had lost his power to do so long ago, after all. She regarded him suspiciously, _there was something like guilt in Nozdormu's eyes_. Anduin's gaze went from Aethas to Nozdormu and back, _somehow, he felt compassion for Aethas—_

But if Aethas had handed Jaina the staff, she would overcome what mind control Anduin had left on her, and she'd take him back to Stormwind.

"_Please_," he asked him, "Something bad will happen if I don't go— _though I don't know what—_"

_Even Aethas felt it; he should be permitted._

"You'll make the right choice, either way," he softly said to Jaina, he pressed the staff in her hand and closed his fingers on hers.

_His magic, it was familiar— not like back in the Violet Hold, but—_

"How is it that you have this staff?" she asked_—_

_But she already knew_.

There was something in the back of her mind, but there was no _time_ for that now_—_ she stepped toward Anduin and summoned a spell to stop him in place. "You will talk this over with your father," she said, but there was compassion in her voice; "and he will decide what to make of this."

"Lady Proudmoore," Nozdormu spoke with quiet severity, "King Varian will forbid it, you know this; _it is too dangerous a matter to leave to chance_."

"I can't send him off on a mission like this," Jaina said, and it wasn't only because of her duty to the king; she cared for Anduin like he were her own flesh and blood.

"If I may, Lady Proudmoore," Aethas' voice came soft and calm, and several sets of eyes turned toward him, like no one remembered he'd been there at all; "Perhaps the young prince— could use accompaniment."

Already Jaina's expression contorted in preparation to chastise him for such a _foolish_ idea, but the words never came; _it occurred to her the plan wasn't entirely without merit_.

"I can't abandon the Kirin Tor," she said softly, "I can't abandon the Alliance—"

_But Anduin would go, either way_.

That night, Murozond would take Wrathion and Kairoz very far back in time, to the Obsidian Dragonshrine of long ago;

And Nozdormu would take Anduin, accompanied by Jaina and another young prince,_ who wasn't certain if he was terrified, or still enamored by her as he'd been years ago_.

_(On to Chapter 3)  
><em>

XXX_  
><em>

_A/N: I would love to find someone interested in roleplaying Warcraft lore, especially Wrathion/Anduin, though there are a lot of lore characters I like. I've had a very difficult time finding anyone interested in this, as WoW fangirls usually like RPing their OCs (which I'm not interested in doing). It's cool by me if you're not completely versed in the lore, I'm not a die-hard lore person, myself, and it's something you can read about a bit at a time as necessary. If you feel like giving it a go, please message me!_


	3. Chapter 3

It was frustrating, being unable to see clearly through time; Nozdormu felt it, too, he would have liked to know _how this will turn out_, and what purpose Anduin would have which was so distressingly _dire—_ but any attempts on his part at elucidating the future fell useless, he had only a feeling, at best.

He stood beside Jaina and Aethas while watching from some distance away, concealed by a spell, while Wrathion spoke with his father; it was vastly unnerving. Two of them hadn't known Neltharion as anything but utter horror, and Nozdormu worried for other reasons entirely: Wrathion's motive might have been altruistic, but Kairoz must have_ something_ up his sleeve if he'd helped bring him here.

"I can't watch this," Jaina finally said, "Anduin doesn't need to be out in the open like this, I don't trust those two." By _those two_, she meant Wrathion and Neltharion, and she had good reason to feel this way— Varian and his son had a history of torment at the hands of black dragons, after all.

She tried to get Anduin's attention from where she was stood, by means of a subtle spell_—_ and if he noticed, he made no indication of it. He was utterly transfixed, with something like desperation or distress in his eyes, and Jaina sighed because she knew he'd never really got over his once-friend's betrayal.

_He's gonna want to ask him_ _why_, she thought,_ and have him explain— and in the meantime, those dragons would devour him_.

Anduin did, in fact, take notice of her signal, but he ignored it, for exactly the reason she'd expected; he remained where he was, prepared to defend himself in the event of attack but unable to move away. He waited for the moment he'd get to talk with Wrathion finally, it occurred to him then how desperately he'd wanted to do so _for several years_; Jaina wondered if his motive to come here was based entirely in selfless altruism, and if there wasn't just a tiny bit of it that was the irresistible impulse to see his old friend again.

He did grow to be handsome, she thought, _Wrathion, that was_; she knew Anduin must think so now that he regarded him this way, likely waiting for him to _finally take notice..._

In truth, Wrathion had noticed long before; he could smell him out, and would have been able to notice the others had they not been magically concealed.

"Have you come to stop me, Anduin Wrynn?"

He asked without turning around, and now Jaina began whisper-calling to him in frustration, aware he couldn't hear from beyond the barrier.

Anduin shivered to hear his name spoken directly; he'd not realized Wrathion knew he was there. It occurred to him that he, himself, wasn't certain if he'd come there to stop him, though he'd guessed that was a likely objective to the plan; either way, there was a time he'd been filled with resentment about being betrayed, but over the years this gave way to despair. The sort of sulking that remained in him after Wrathion tricked him and vanished had become a knowing familiar, and the bitterness he'd long-since let go was now renewed at the words, _have you come to stop me_.

His first words to Anduin_ in so many years_. His voice was so... _grown up_ now.

In his moment of hurt, he'd almost forgot the distress that overtook him at hearing the far more important bit about _the world coming to an end_.

His courage gathered quickly and his eyes came fixed on his _old friend_, who still hadn't turned around. "Was it true, what you said?" he asked, his voice trembled just a little, and he fought to hold this back; "Was it true, about the world being destroyed?"

"Father," Wrathion said to Neltharion, "I apologize for this interruption."

At this, Anduin grit his teeth; now finally _the Black Prince_ turned to face him, he paced forth with ease and slid one hand diplomatically round his back. Anduin stiffened at the touch straight away, because it was so bloody _casual_.

Wrathion led him amicably toward where he'd been stood before, as though years hadn't passed since they'd last spoken, like he'd never done anything dishonest; he introduced him to Neltharion like he'd had no qualms about being spied on, like he'd been _expecting_ him somehow.

_For some reason, this made Anduin angrier than all the stuff before_.

But he couldn't very well act on those feelings, he'd been bred and raised as a proper prince, and in the end he introduced himself _properly_ even despite being terrified; _old memories of childhood returned, he thought of Onyxia..._

Jaina was now clearly at the ready. She stood like a beast of prey, all senses focused on Neltharion, in case he'd try anything... she could envision Varian now, _Where is my son...?_ If this was some plan orchestrated by the Sunreavers, she hoped at least there was _someone_ who could explain to the king about this, even if it were the enemy.

Someone who could explain she didn't just _abandon_ the Kirin Tor. _And she had all this work to do, too, there was a meeting early next morning..._ or did _next morning_ have any meaning now? If they'd gone back in time, could they conceivably be back only moments after they'd left, and the king would never need to worry about his son's absence...?

From where they were stood, her party couldn't hear the exchange between Anduin and the black dragons, all three of them strained, Neltharion seemed to be leading them away now...

"_Follow them_," Jaina whispered, still in low tones even though there was no need, and finally Nozdormu spoke up. "He's not going to hurt the prince, if that's what you're worried about. This isn't the Neltharion you knew."

_In fact_, he thought,_ back then we were friends_.

He saw Anduin glance over his shoulder as in matter of habit, as though he could see their invisible group; Wrathion noticed this, too. His eyes narrowed and he briefly paused in place.

"Father," he said, "I believe my friend hasn't come here alone."

Now Anduin's jaw came clenched, he cursed himself inwardly for his blunder; he ought to have known the others would likely follow, in order to protect him.

Nozdormu finally stepped out of the barrier, he stood in plain view where Neltharion could see, and actually hailed to him; Wrathion actually smiled, he laughed and patted Anduin's back, his fangs glinted dangerously through his grin. "Nozdormu, himself," he said, "of course, well played, my friend."

_My friend_.

It sounded like something familiar and old, and both he and Anduin stilled at that; they'd forgot altogether about the others present.

_For a very brief moment, Anduin thought the hand on his back felt kind._

XXX

"There's something else I want from this time," Kairoz said to Murozond. They were roosted not terribly far from Neltharion's lair, in their true forms; they huddled together against the cold, with Kairoz's head lain on Murozond's side. They knew Nozdormu would want to stop them, _but he would be utterly _powerless, he couldn't see any better into the future than they could.

"The Well of Eternity," Murozond said, "Beloved, _I know what you want._" Back this many years ago, it still was intact; _they knew well by that point what its waters could do_.

XXX

Wrathion hadn't expected his father's lair to be something he'd find _impressive_; it was far more breathtaking than the Obsidian Dragonshrine of his time. The cavern was large and overwhelming in its majesty, enchanted, the ceiling and walls sloped in mysterious ridges and curves over glimmering minerals and mirror-like streams; here and there shrubs glowed curiously in fluorescent colors, purple and blue and gold, the top of the cave was so high he couldn't quite make out how far up it reached.

There were other black dragons about, large ones and also some drakes, and some very small whelps, Neltharion was sat in his human form across from Nozdormu, with a small, nagging whelp in his lap.

Anduin watched this for some time, there was something oddly familiar about it; it somehow made his heartache worse. He glared speechlessly at his counterpart, who was sat across from him with what seemed like _contentment_.

Between them a small fire burned, upon which they roasted small pieces of meat on twigs, Anduin's long fingers felt along the branch he had for his slice; he glared at Wrathion some moments without speaking. "You're not going to say anything," his voice finally came, in dangerously quiet tones; "About— about how you just _ran away_, how— you've _done all this—_"

Why was he on about that? Wasn't he going to ask about the _far more important_ matter of the world _nearing its end?_

Whatever emotion Wrathion had in him, he didn't let on; he regarded Anduin with something like amusement, and it was vastly annoying. "You don't honestly think I'm going to tell you about that," he replied, like _surely Anduin would see reason_.

Somehow, Anduin felt himself again a sulking child; at the tip of his tongue were the words, _I thought we were friends_.

_No, of course we're not, if this was how he'd treated me._

"And what about what you said after that? About how, oh, _the world is going to be destroyed?_"

Somehow, it seemed very briefly that Wrathion's expression faltered; he regained his composure soon after that and even tried to smile, but there was rage in him Anduin _knew_, which he noticed, no matter how subtle— _even now that years had passed_.

"You don't honestly expect me to tell you about _that_," the answer finally came.

Anduin's hand smacked his own chest with enough impact that some of the drakes turned to look; "It's _my_ world, too, you know!" He'd become self-conscious after that, aware of the show he'd made. He lowered his voice and glared forth angrily, "_If something serious is going to happen, I deserve to know_."

Looking at his old friend directly was still difficult; he'd grown and had changed, but was still so _familiar_, his heart hurt with the awareness _he'd really betrayed him_— because, just meeting his eyes, _he'd appeared as though nothing had changed_.

"You_ deserve to know?_" Wrathion repeated, with almost a cruel sort of laugh, "So you'll what? Run to your father? _We both saw how well he handled himself last time—_"

"I won't _run to my father!_" Anduin seethed, he flung one arm sideward to emphasize the point, "_He doesn't even—_" He stopped himself before the rest of the words came; _he doesn't even know I'm here right now. And he'd probably have me locked in the tower if he knew I was thinking to go in the first place._

After that, between them there was silence.

Gradually, Anduin composed himself, he stared petulantly at the flames, where his slice of meat appeared dark against the incandescent fire; he could feel Wrathion's glowing red eyes, and it was terribly frustrating, not knowing what was _really_ going through his head.

Some distance away, Jaina was sat beside Aethas, she watched the two princes almost guiltily, like it were the least she could do after _letting Anduin go_; she could have stopped him, she knew. She let him travel here with conscious awareness, and felt like she'd betrayed Varian in this. Was it the right choice? Leading him here, straight to the heart of the black dragons' den, not only after the Wrynns' traumatic history, but Wrathion's personal betrayal?

Beside her, Aethas was almost unusually quiet; she could feel his gaze on her, how he watched her watch Anduin_—_ and what loathing she had for him became confused with what she knew now. _She remembered back when his eyes were still blue_.

There was a time he had thought he could have stayed in the Kirin Tor forever, he'd had little interest in matters of state, and even the prospect of taking the throne appeared so far in the distant future it wasn't really _real_; after it was all over, he'd returned to Dalaran and the Council of Six, the last place he still could call _home_.

He wasn't sure what to make of it when he'd been expelled by Jaina, _personally_.

Maybe she'd turn around and slay him there and then, at a point so far removed in time no one would be the wiser; either way, he knew better than to offer further commentary. About _agreeing to come here_. About the way she watched Anduin and Wrathion like a lioness, it was terribly tempting to try consolation, some trite thought like _he'll be fine—_ but she'd probably take it as something very daft. And even though technically she was of far lesser age, in the life of a human she was now farther ahead than he was in the life of an elf.

It made him feel sheepish, _like he was just a stupid kid_.

He said nothing, and merely remained at her side, one hand idly drawing patterns in the sand while they watched the two princes in the conversation they couldn't hear.

XXX

That night, Anduin lay to sleep at Wrathion's side, because he'd been introduced to Neltharion as _his son's friend_; he'd been glaring with silent anger at the back of his head for a while when there came quiet motion in the sheets. It was subtle at first, then a bit more insistent, and finally Anduin turned to see a small whelp attempting to burrow under his blanket.

_I'm not in the mood for games_, he thought, and he was reminded so vividly of how Wrathion had been when he was this small, that he almost expected the whelp to speak to him in his friend's voice.

"_That isn't cute_," he whispered, aware it was likely intelligent enough to understand, even if it were a language it hadn't heard before.

"Letting another whelp in your bed, Anduin Wrynn?" Wrathion's voice came from the sheets nearby, and Anduin stilled; his thoughts raced rapidly to remember if he'd said anything terribly embarrassing. But Wrathion flushed hotly soon as he'd said the words, _because they came with implication he'd never intended_.

They remained both frozen in place, utterly mortified, and, worst of all, the whelp had meanwhile made itself quite comfortably at home beneath the sheets; _Anduin could feel it burrow against the back of his legs, he was somehow powerless to do anything about it_.

Very slowly, he lay back in his arrangement of blankets, painfully aware that he had, in fact, _allowed a little whelp into his bed_; he said nothing for a long time, still staring at Wrathion's hair.

"This isn't a bed, really," he finally said, "_it's just— some sheets..._"

_(On to Chapter 4)  
><em>

XXX

_A/N: I would love to find someone interested in roleplaying Warcraft lore, especially Wrathion/Anduin, though there are a lot of lore characters I like. I've had a very difficult time finding anyone interested in this, as WoW fangirls usually like RPing their OCs (which I'm not interested in doing). It's cool by me if you're not completely versed in the lore, I'm not a die-hard lore person, myself, and it's something you can read about a bit at a time as necessary. If you feel like giving it a go, please message me!_


	4. Chapter 4

When Anduin woke late into the night, he didn't know where he was; there was the earthy scent of stone and minerals, high in the ceiling vague fluorescent lights twinkled like little colored stars— and some distance away was Wrathion, still asleep, he appeared deceptively innocent this way.

With his eyes accustomed to the darkness, Anduin curiously regarded his old friend, the way his once-adolescent features had given way to something more elegant and adult; in his mind, he couldn't help comparing and contrasting, _had he, himself, grown about the same...?_

Did Wrathion now really have _a number of very impressive horns, which were very intimidating and large_? He watched for some time, the way the sheets only partly covered his naked chest, how his long hair fell in his eyes.

In a distant part of the cavern, Neltharion was lain in his true form with a number of other dragons, all of them his brood, huddled together to sleep; Nozdormu was there, as well, elegantly curled against Neltharion, the black whelps and drakes had gathered around him, too. It occurred to Anduin that Wrathion could have joined them, the way Nozdormu had, but that he'd chosen against it.

There he was, despite his nonchalant demeanor, nevertheless lain to sleep at this distant part of the lair, _at his side_.

_He'd acted so calm, but he was afraid of his father—_ even if he'd come here deliberately to seek his aid.

Anduin hesitated; then, very slowly, he reached to brush the hair from Wrathion's eyes. _He didn't grow up with other whelps, or with a parent—_ to some extent Anduin knew what that was like.

The strands felt silky and soft, Anduin stroked them gently and then froze all at once when the red glow of dragon eyes flashed upon him; he stilled with one hand still in Wrathion's hair as his breath died in his throat._ He knew he was blushing hotly_.

"_Ah— _" he stammered, his mind raced for a credible excuse, Wrathion's gaze moved from his hand to his face and back.

"_What are you doing?_" he asked, and Anduin stared in mute horror, _because there was no good way to conceal this_.

"I— _nothing— _" he whispered back, and then quickly retracted his hand; he tried to meet Wrathion's gaze and stupidly murmured, "Just— all the other dragons— are all way over there, but you..."

Wrathion's eyes narrowed for some moments, but then he let a quiet laugh. "You think I'm _lonely_, because I'm not _curled there with my father_," he said, and suddenly Anduin felt very daft.

"_No_," he huffed, "_no, _that's not what I— it's just— I mean, it's understandable, who wouldn't— _Deathwing was terrifying— _"

He knew soon as he spoke that it was a mistake, for a moment he thought his friend's expression turned to loathing— but whatever there was on his mind, Wrathion didn't let on. "Yes, he was terrifying, _Prince of Stormwind_. Who _doesn't_ know that?"

In the dark of the cave, his eyes seemed to glow piercingly bright, like two living flames that could consume him— for a moment, Anduin thought he really was in danger, but Wrathion only chuckled, with almost _convincing_ casual grace. He turned with his back to Anduin and curled in the other direction, then pulled the sheets over his back.

"You'll do well to watch yourself here, old friend," he said; "_It sounds like you are the one who's afraid_."

XXX

That night, Aethas couldn't sleep. It wouldn't do, _taking his place beside Jaina_, with the easy excuse that _they were the only non-dragons there, and Anduin already was lain with Wrathion_— it would be terribly inelegant, and so would the other easy excuse, that _he could watch over Anduin while she got her rest_.

He made his way outside the cavern and took his seat against the rocks, his gaze trailed to the twisting crevices of the distant volcano, the way it spiraled up into the sky; _it really was cold out_. Very softly, he whispered an incantation to light a small fire, it crackled pleasantly as magical flecks danced round its flames; from somewhere off, there issued quiet chatter, his ears moved as of their own accord to better tune in to the sound.

Two dragons spoke to each other in nurturing, affectionate tones, there was so much gentleness in it he'd almost missed the fact _they were scheming something sinister_; no— _sinister_ was a very _one-sided_ view, _people had said the same thing of him_.

Aethas gazed into the golden heart of the fire, his aristocratic hands called forth the glittering lights like paint flowing through water, he wove them with patience and care into the shape of a phoenix— but then softly extinguished the spell before the creature could fly away.

_Sometimes he wished he could go back._

He'd been hiding so long he was no longer certain if he was _hiding_, or if he'd really _become someone else_.

The dragons who conspired in secret were on about Wrathion, and about Nozdormu, and even as they spoke of how _powerless_ Nozdormu was, there was in their voices unmistakable love; it sounded almost like _regret_.

This wasn't _sinister_; listening to them, Aethas could tell they believed they acted for the greater good. _It wasn't just for their benefit, but for the bronze dragonflight as a whole, they wanted to save their race—_

—_it was what I also had wanted to do_, he thought, _once upon a time_.

XXX

At the roost where they'd been speaking, Kairoz got one finger on Murozond's lips; "_Hush_," he mouthed, "There's someone nearby,_ I can smell him_."

The two of them went quiet in order to listen, and in moments Kairoz chanted to his true form; there came a great gust of wings flapping open, he made a quick descent to the mouth of the cave.

Aethas moved quickly, he blinked away from the fire and rapidly conjured a number of weapons that hovered just behind him, in preparation to attack; he just barely felt the air sway at his back when the fabric of his robes was tightly pulled, and in a moment of surprise he was gripped from behind in the talons of a second dragon.

He spelled the weapons to flip the other way, Murozond dodged them with partial success as he carried the little mage back to their roost, _they were very large dragons, the both_.

"Impressive," Kairoz said as he changed back to his elven form; Murozond changed, too, he had one hand tight on Aethas' mouth from behind, and one round both his wrists. Aethas glared, his weapons hovered around him with intended threat.

Kairoz didn't seem much afraid; he moved very close, his breath hovered on Murozond's hand on Aethas' mouth, he brushed the hair from Aethas' eyes with the back of one finger.

"_Don't think we don't know who you are, blood mage_," he whispered, "_don't think we don't know why you're here_."

"How much do you suppose he heard?" Murozond asked, "What do you think we should do?"

Very subtly, Aethas spelled his weapons to turn against them both, slowly, but just before he'd meant to strike, Murozond's hand slid down from his mouth; Aethas gasped for breath, his lips and chin felt damp, his hands still were bound.

"_I'm not your enemy_," he muttered, "I'm not allied with anyone— "

"Whether you're allied isn't your _choice_," there came the reply, "_Not one word to Nozdormu, we'll know if you talk_."

Before Aethas could respond, there came a direct blast against Murozond which rapidly knocked him back, then one against Kairoz; the second blast missed, but they'd been taken enough off guard that Aethas had a chance to slip away. He peered over the edge of the cliff to see Jaina stood on the frozen ground below, she was aiming toward him and spoke loudly enough he could hear.

"_Blizzard, move...!_" she called.

He began rapidly hopping down the crevices of the short cliff, not exactly missing the blizzard, and the dragons were agile enough to slip through it, too— but ultimately they let him go as he finished his descent. They remained in their true forms, hovering somewhere above ground, and laughed at his escape.

"Remember what I told you," Murozond warned, "_Not a word._"

Aethas was out of breath when he'd finally reached Jaina, she gazed back at the dragons, then around the area surrounding to see if there were more of them.

"_What the hell were you doing?_" She asked, she reached to straighten his robes like she were his mother; "Were those guys— _was that Kairozdormu?"_

Aethas still was catching his breath, he tried to sort out everything that happened, and blushed when Jaina started with his robes; he was about to tell her everything, but looked over his shoulder to see the dragons flying back toward their roost.

"They're just—" _He couldn't lie to Jaina so directly_, not when she looked him straight in the eye; "I can't say," he admitted finally, "it's not about Anduin anyhow, so— "

"_Are you allied with the infinite dragons?_" Jaina asked, "Is that what this is about?"

"_No!_ I'm— _no, of course not!_"

She wondered if the three of them were plotting something, and if Aethas had managed to anger them in some way. "I'll have my eye on you, you know," she warned, "If you're planning something sinister— "

"_Jaina..._" he sighed with a great deal of exasperation, "Why is it you _never_ trust me? Why do you _always_ think I'm up to some _sinister_ purpose? Do you _honestly_ think I'd wish you harm— "

"_Thalen Songweaver— _"

"I knew _nothing_ about that! I already told you!"

"Oh,_ really?_ You knew_ nothing?_"

Aethas took two steps toward her, visibly shaken with annoyance; he pointed one finger and grit his teeth. "You think, what? That I'd _knowingly_ have someone dispatched to _attack_ Theramore? To attack _you_? I _love _you_— _"

He stopped himself too late, aware he'd finally said what was unspoken between them for years; now that the words were irreversibly out in the open, they weighed on him darkly with shame, he remembered how he'd shrunk long ago when he saw her and Arthas kiss.

Jaina remained where she was, mouth frozen where once she had some venomous words prepared; she didn't say anything for a long time. Her eyes glittered with something that looked dangerously like compassion, and _pity_ was something he couldn't bear to have from her; _he couldn't endure having it gently and empathetically explained to him_, how _he couldn't make her feel something she didn't_.

Maybe it was better when she thought he was really her enemy.

He felt like a foolish, sulking child when her hand came gently to slide back his hair, but he knew that, this time, she really believed him; "You're right," she finally said, she sounded tired and resigned. "You really wouldn't do something like that. _Kael'thas_."

His pulse quickened at being addressed by his real name for the first time in years, and even though he was certain she knew long before, it was something different altogether to hear it directly; he swiped stupidly at his eyes with none of the regal sort of grace she must have known in him.

"Anyway, forget what I said, it doesn't matter. Just— so you believe me— I'm not _plotting_ things— with the infinite dragons— anyway— _it's not like you didn't already know_— "

He was terribly embarrassed; then, to make matters worse, she started explaining, _ever so compassionately_. She was looking so _gently_ into his eyes; "You know I can't. You know I'm with— "

"Yeah, Kalecgos," he huffed, _he wished so much he wasn't openly tearful_, he fought hard for elegance, to no avail. "Right, well, _I always thought it was because you only liked humans, but now— _"

In truth, it hurt her heart to see him speak so nakedly, things she'd suspected for a long time but never heard outright; she was at a loss, still confused between the severity of what they'd spoke of before and this much more intimate subject.

"Kael'thas, I— "

"No! No, it's fine, I get it," he said, "I mean, _Kalecgos_, he's like, what, the _aspect of magic_ now, I can't compete with that— "

"It's not like that, you're not meant to _compete_— "

"Yeah," he said, "I guess you're right— that is, _Arthas_, back then he was utterly _useless_— "

She sighed; she didn't feel like digging all that up again. _She knew what a tender subject Arthas was to Quel'thalas_.

"Come on," she said, she carefully led him back to the cavern, "Let's get some rest, I want to be alert tomorrow when Neltharion calls a meeting with the other black dragons." She still wondered what Murozond and Kairoz were up to, but knew well enough Kairoz was allied with Wrathion— so whatever they were planning, it didn't likely involve an intent to foil all that.

_She'd need to have a little talk with Wrathion in the morning._

_No— it looked like she'd need to have a little talk with Wrathion now_.

On reaching the part of the cave where the two princes lay to sleep, she noticed Anduin remarkably _close_ to Wrathion, she paused in place to assess whether it was something innocuous.

"_Definitely not, that's not innocent_," Aethas mouthed, there was so much _knowing wisdom_ in his voice that Jaina raised an eyebrow; she got one foot in the space between the two princes and began carefully nudging them apart.

Anduin mumbled incoherently in his sleep, audibly dissatisfied, he tried to reposition himself the way he was before; finally he opened his eyes when Jaina got him far enough away.

He regarded her in the darkness, and now Wrathion was sleepily looking forth, too; he stretched and yawned, then reached to scratch his naked chest.

"Aunt Jaina?" Anduin murmured, "What's going on?"

"Go back to sleep," she said, "But, like— try to keep your arms off each other."

She turned to head back to her own blankets, and Anduin began turning back to sleep again; several seconds passed before his eyes shot open all at once.

"_Keep your arms off each other? What's that supposed to mean?_"

His head flipped toward Wrathion in panic, and he found him staring back with just as much horror. "My arms were_ definitely not on you_," Wrathion said, like he'd forgot altogether about his elegant guise, "_Why would I have my arms on you? They definitely weren't on you_."

"No, definitely!" Anduin stammered, "_Exactly!_ why would I— " he let a dry bark of laughter, "No!_ I'm_ sleeping all the way over _here!_ What, you think_ I_ want— _I definitely don't want— good night_."

"_Yeah, good night!_"

After that, they each slid about three extra feet apart in opposite directions, _just for good measure_.

_(On to Chapter 5)  
><em>

_A/N: I would love to find someone interested in roleplaying Warcraft lore, especially Wrathion/Anduin, though there are a lot of lore characters I like. I've had a very difficult time finding anyone interested in this, as WoW fangirls usually like RPing their OCs (which I'm not interested in doing). It's cool by me if you're not completely versed in the lore, I'm not a die-hard lore person, myself, and it's something you can read about a bit at a time as necessary. If you feel like giving it a go, please message me!_


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning had in store unexpected challenges for Stormwind's prince; Anduin stood frozen with absolute terror while watching about a dozen black drakes bathing in an underground lagoon, utterly carefree as they swam in its shimmering, fluorescent waters. It was terrifying because he was meant to bathe there, too, he'd been cordially invited by Neltharion, himself— _but, to him, it didn't feel quite so natural_.

_What if Wrathion was there among them?_ He tried to look at the dragons closely, to see if he recognized one of them as his old friend, but they all looked really quite similar, and it was difficult to tell with them mostly submerged.

_No, he's probably not in there_, Anduin thought; after he'd chosen not to sleep together with the others, he probably wasn't going to bathe with them. Maybe he could disrobe very quickly, then get in the water before anyone could see.

Anduin carefully gazed around, then stole another look at the drakes, just to be sure none of them seemed to be looking directly— it seemed to be safe, so he began rapidly unraveling the various binds of his clothes. He'd just barely got his trousers off when there came footsteps behind him, his gaze whipped around and he flushed all at once.

"_Aunt Jaina, what the hell...!_" he huffed, and Jaina spun rapidly to face the other way. "Sorry! I didn't see anything, I swear!" She said, but the damage was done; Anduin was horribly embarrassed.

"By the Light, can't you see I'm— _don't you ever—_" _Don't you ever knock?_ _No, that didn't exactly apply; he wondered if Neltharion told her it was fine to bathe here, too. _

"Nozdormu said you went off in this direction, so I thought... well anyway, listen—"

"_Oh, Nozdormu told you, well, did he happen to mention I was going here to have my bath?!_"

"Anduin..." Jaina sighed, "Look, I'm sorry I walked in on you... there's something important I want to talk to you about. Is... it okay to turn around?"

"_No! Don't turn around!_"

"Okay... say when it's all right..."

Several moments passed before finally Anduin said it was okay, and Jaina turned around tentatively; she found him completely dressed, with all the princely accessories of his uniform meticulously fastened. _He was still completely blushing_.

"Anduin, listen— this is important." She sat down with him on the rocks and proceeded to relay what happened during the night, how Kairozdormu was there with an infinite dragon. "You know Kairoz was allied with Wrathion before— they're probably still working together, we need to be very careful."

"Kairozdormu..." Anduin murmured slowly, they spoke in low tones in case any of the drakes nearby could hear. "Aunt Jaina, there's something really important I haven't told you," he said, "Yesterday, when I heard Wrathion speak with his father, he said _the world is coming to an end. _He was asking Neltharion to help protect it; but when I asked about it directly, he wouldn't tell me anything."

XXX

After Jaina had left, Anduin resolved himself to make _extra_ certain that this time no one was coming near; he scanned the area around the corner, and saw a shadow moving on the wall far off. _Good thing I looked_, he thought, and wondered if he'd wait all morning before he could take his bath.

Aethas approached with casual grace, he greeted Anduin nonchalantly and proceeded without further ado to disrobe. _Right there beside him, like he wasn't at all bothered_.

Anduin rapidly turned the other way, too stunned for words, he wondered if privacy was something he was meant to forego; after some time there came the low sounds of water swaying, it occurred to him Aethas had gone into the lagoon, and he tentatively turned around.

_Great. Now he definitely couldn't just undress right there, _it was one thing for the drakes to see him, _but Aethas wasn't a dragon, who walked around naked all the time anyway_. Anduin could see him swim through the water like it were his own private pool, completely at ease amongst the drakes and comfortable in his nudity _like he knew how good he looked._

"Whatever," Anduin mumbled, he sat himself against the rocks and waited for them all to be done, because they had to finish at _some_ point— he'd have enough time if he'd skipped breakfast, but then he'd need a while for his morning meditation. So, he decided, if more than an hour will have passed, he'd go into the water, regardless of who was around.

After what seemed like eons, finally he seemed to have the lagoon to himself; he looked around the corner very carefully, then the surrounding space far as he could see— and finally, very carefully, he proceeded to disrobe. He folded his garments meticulously and placed them on one of the rocks, and then gingerly made his way into the pool.

The water felt pleasantly warm and smelled sweetly of blossoms and grass, he'd made himself at ease and proceeded to scrub his skin with the soft sand near the walls; it appeared that somewhere off sunlight came streaming from an aperture high in the ceiling, it skimmed the pool's surface and reflected shimmering on the rocks. Anduin swam through the water pleasantly, and became aware on rounding a bend in the wall that the stream continued into another part of the cave; there were distant sounds of a waterfall, he proceeded forth to that area, and felt much better than he had earlier that morning.

On rounding the turn where finally the waterfall came into view, he noticed one of the drakes was still there; it was stood beneath the stream with its wings widespread, the sunlight glittered off its dark scales and the elegant curve of its back. It was both majestic and terrifying, because it resembled Onyxia very much in the way its horns curled, but its body was sleek and slender, enchanted, it had a number of other horns pointed gracefully backward along its head.

Anduin noticed straight away that amongst the others, this drake was unique; somehow, its body appeared softly to shimmer, like beneath its dark scales it had been constructed by iridescent gems. The immaterial colors seemed to flow and sway subtly through it, _and on one of its ears was a single golden hoop_.

Anduin stilled; his pulse raced inside him, he felt somehow overcome; despite his embarrassment, he mouthed his friend's name very softly.

"_Wrathion?_" he tentatively said.

At the sound, the drake froze; somehow, that time he really hadn't noticed him. He spun around with complete lack of grace, and with none of the regal majesty of moments before; he'd got the entire area nearby drenched with the loud splash of his wings, and stared at Anduin with mute panic.

"_How dare you! I'm having my bath!_" Wrathion stammered, he tried uselessly to shield himself with his wings and front limbs, before he remembered he was in his true form.

A short distance away, Anduin appeared traumatized; he'd not expected the graceful picture he'd seen to turn into something so raw and grotesque all at once. A long time had passed before he'd finally found his voice. "It _is_ you," he murmured, it was evident in his voice he was still a bit afraid.

Wrathion appeared uncertain, he also noticed _Anduin was naked_, and tried to remember if he'd been doing anything embarrassing or stupid, _like singing in the bath_.

"_I knew you were there_," he said rapidly, "_I was just— I didn't say anything because—_"

"No you didn't," Anduin replied, he finally managed to smile— because the lie was so _defensive_, and so familiar as something Wrathion would do.

Wrathion appeared to regard him warily, like he was assessing the parts of him above water that he could see; it was a bit embarrassing to Anduin, but the thrill of seeing his friend's true form as a grown drake for the first time overwhelmed that.

"Is this what you look like now?" Anduin asked, it occurred to him it was really quite a stupid question, and he cursed himself mentally for asking such a thing; he swam around him to get a better look, and Wrathion pretended it didn't make him feel daft. "That's right," he said with feigned courage, "Pretty impressive, right? And I'm not even done growing yet, I'll probably get really big, like—" _Like my father was_.

_No, he wasn't going to be like that. Pretty big like the other aspects_.

Anduin's laughter echoed through the cavern, he really was impressed. "You really _have _grown," he said, unable to hide his smile; "Remember when you were, like, this big?" He held his hands out of the water, a short distance apart. "And you could, like, lie down in my lap—"

Wrathion inadvertently laughed, before he remembered to stifle himself; "Yes, well—" he coughed, "_Clearly I'm much bigger than you now_."

"Well, maybe in your true form..."

"_And_ in human form."

Anduin huffed, "_Not_ in human form, _I'm definitely taller_."

He thought that even as a dragon, Wrathion appeared incredulous at that. "You are _not_!" he sputtered, he switched to his human form straight away, and it was a curious thing to watch, because the difference in size between _dragon_ and _human_ was incredible.

_There he was, his old friend again_. They both laughed as Wrathion swam toward him in the water, both a little shy. "Right—" Wrathion said breathlessly, "I'm taller. See?" He moved one hand from the top of Anduin's head to his own.

Anduin huffed, "Well, you can't tell like _that_, we're both _swimming—_"

"Okay— swim over there, it's shallow enough to stand—" He pointed toward a rounded area of the pool, and then began to head there, himself.

"Wait up—" Anduin called, he began swimming after him; in that area, Wrathion was stood with the water reaching around the middle of his chest, he brushed the hair back from his eyes with both hands, and moved aside to make room for Anduin.

Once Anduin got there, he brushed his hair back, too, he padded at the sandy bottom of the pool with his feet, unable to stop grinning because he felt strangely thrilled; slowly, the two positioned themselves face to face, each looking to the top of the other's head. "See? I'm taller," Wrathion said triumphantly, he moved one hand from Anduin's head to his own, and he really did stand an inch or two over him.

"No fair, you're probably standing on some rocks or something—" Anduin said, and Wrathion huffed, "I am not! I'm standing on the ground, just like you—"

"We'll measure again later, after the bath," Anduin said, vastly annoyed by the utter injustice that would have Wrathion _taller than he was_. And after he'd been such a tiny little whelp...

Very discreetly, his gaze trailed along Wrathion's chest, he was mentally comparing and contrasting everything, and his pulse raced fast because of how _naked_ they were; it hadn't occurred to him Wrathion was doing the same all the while, he appeared tremendously content about being _taller_.

Somewhere at the back of his mind, Anduin was aware that even though this felt like _old times_, Wrathion still wasn't likely to tell him his secrets; he wanted to know about Kairoz's presence, about the betrayal from long ago, _and, most of all, about the world coming to an end_. But he worried that if he'd asked, he'd ruin this little reunion, and he'd missed Wrathion so _terribly_, he couldn't bring himself to ask.

_But what kind of friendship is this, really_, Anduin wondered, _if he's hiding all this stuff, if I can't tell him my thoughts...?_

Maybe they could stay friends just a _little_ longer, before Anduin would ruin everything by asking.

"Bet I'm faster than you," he grinned, "bet I can reach that rock right there before you can."

"What rock. That one?"

"The one with, like, ivy on top— just there—"

"That one, yeah. Okay, race you there in three... two..."

"Wait! Wait, I'm not ready. Okay. Now I'm ready."

They counted down together before taking off.

XXX

For that day's meeting, Neltharion had called not only many dragons of his own flight, but the aspects of the other flights, as well. The first to arrive was Malygos, bewitchingly handsome in his elven form; the very earth seemed to glitter with imprints of magic in his wake, and beneath the sway of his hair he appeared to be smirking just a little, _like he knew something no one else did_.

Neltharion shook his hand amicably, then the two patted one another gladly on the back— _like_ _clearly too much time had passed since last they'd had a chance to meet_. Such a thing was rare for Malygos, in truth, as he really was quite timid and introverted, and liked to spend his time alone.

After him came Ysera, still yawning and followed by a clutch of nagging whelps; they were tended to by the brothers Eranikus and Itharius, both Ysera's consorts.

The queen of the dragons was next, in her steps small blossoms and shrubs appeared and vanished on the cave floor, Alexstrasza appeared gentle and kind as she had been in Anduin's own time; behind her in formal procession walked her four consorts, each more handsome than the last, and all four almost entirely naked. Golden bracelets and chains lined the consorts' wrists and ankles, and fastened to their nipples at the front; Jaina gasped despite herself to recognize Krasus, he appeared almost boyish, clearly the youngest of the four. _She noticed that just at the flesh of his behind was inscribed in draconic, Property of the Queen_.

_He must have been her favorite_, she thought, and her heart wrenched to recall his demise.

After that, no further guests arrived for a while; even though Nozdormu from the present time was there, after having lost his titan powers, he did not believe it was sufficient for the meeting that he served as the timeless, ever-present essence of the bronze dragonflight. He insisted they wait _just a bit longer_.

After that, nearly another hour had passed, and the guests had begun to grow restless; Ysera's whelps in particular were difficult to subdue, and had given her consorts a very difficult time.

Then, all at once, Neltharion's face brightened. "_Nozdormu, my old friend!_" He grinned, and now the other aspects gazed in the direction of the entrance; Alexstrasza chuckled good-naturedly, and Malygos waved.

Neltharion proceeded to the entrance, he could be heard asking vaguely whether Soridormi couldn't make it, and seemed to embrace someone like a brother— it became apparent when the two walked inside that the dragon who arrived was _Kairoz_.

Wrathion, Anduin, Jaina, and Aethas watched in utter shock while Neltharion led him in, Kairoz bloody _smiled_ at them, he stopped just before Nozdormu and patted him warmly on the shoulder. "My future self," he beamed at the other aspects, his hand raked through Nozdormu's hair with what looked like _innocent love_; after that, he leaned forth fondly, with uncanny gentleness— and chastely kissed Nozdormu's lips.

_(On to Chapter 6)  
><em>

_A/N: I would love to find someone interested in roleplaying Warcraft lore, especially Wrathion/Anduin, though there are a lot of lore characters I like. I've had a very difficult time finding anyone interested in this, as WoW fangirls usually like RPing their OCs (which I'm not interested in doing). It's cool by me if you're not completely versed in the lore, I'm not a die-hard lore person, myself, and it's something you can read about a bit at a time as necessary. If you feel like giving it a go, please message me!_


	6. Chapter 6

Jaina and Anduin turned to glare at Wrathion; they almost simultaneously nudged him in the ribs. Wrathion stiffened, he appear to growl dangerously at them both, and now they both were whispering to him angrily.

"_Kairoz is Nozdormu's past form? You knew this, didn't you?_" Jaina seethed, "_I know you two are in league together, how long did you know this?_"

At the same time, Anduin angrily whispered, "_Nozdormu is in on this, too? No wonder you were so secretive—_"

Wrathion raised an eyebrow in a show of regal irritation, he slapped Anduin's hand away and whispered subtly through clenched teeth, "_Interestingly enough, I knew nothing about this_."

In fact, he was quite annoyed that Kairoz had _neglected to mention such an important detail_.

But now that he'd thought of it, it made sense;Nozdormu, himself, had said he'd created the infinite dragonflight long ago, when once he'd been intent on preventing his own death. There must have been something in their own time period that he wanted, in order to accomplish this— Wrathion thought of how Kairoz had said, _we'll make the infinite dragonflight possible_.

After all, the four of them who had come from the present were too young to have known what Nozdormu had looked like long ago; and so much time had passed since then anyway, that the other aspects might not have noticed that _Kairoz_ resembled the way Nozdormu had looked over ten thousand years ago. Maybe Kairoz wasn't even really trying to hide from the present-day aspects the fact that he was Nozdormu.

As for Aethas, he said nothing of what he'd overheard last night; _in truth, he wasn't certain he disagreed with Kairoz_, and maybe it was because he'd had the personal experience on multiple occasions of being labeled _sinister_, when he'd really just wanted to do his best.

_He still couldn't really believe he'd confessed to Jaina_, in his past there had been so many painful nights when he'd worried himself over her; his mind drifted to those thoughts while he watched the guests chatting, it all seemed like a big family reunion somehow. In a small corner of the cave, Malygos was shyly performing small magic tricks for both Ysera's and Neltharion's whelps, they were tugging and climbing on him, which appeared to make him uneasy; he seemed too timid to ask them to stop, however.

_This is the dragon who waged the Nexus wars..._ Aethas thought in disbelief, _this shy pretty boy is the reason we moved Dalaran to Northrend..._

Then there was Krasus; he was docilely sat at Alexstrasza's feet with his head in her lap, and she was absently stroking his hair while speaking with Ysera; Aethas smiled to remember him among The Six in the Kirin Tor. _He'd been a friend to Quel'thalas_. At the moment, he appeared ever gentle and subdued, almost hiding in the queen's robes— _unlike two of her other consorts, who, Aethas took note, were lain in a shameless tangle of limbs and snogging each other stupid_, like they had to entertain themselves _somehow_ when they didn't have the queen's attention.

Aethas sighed, _sometimes he really missed the parties in Dalaran, _back when he'd studied magic there and before he'd had to grow up overnight; he'd been so deep in thought he hadn't noticed until then that both he and Jaina were openly ogling the queen's consorts.

He might have joked to her about _whether she supposed the queen would let them borrow one for the night_, except it was _Jaina_, and he was hesitant to let her know anything _impure_ of him.

And at the other end of the room was Neltharion, flanked by both Kairoz and Nozdormu, he seemed to be talking with visible interest to both; _even if Aethas didn't feel himself their enemy, there was a bad feeling in his gut that this could not be good_.

Anduin appeared to think so, as well, he was really quite concerned; here Nozdormu had asked him _personally_ to come, because his function here was presumably so _dire_— and now it appeared he was actually _Kairoz_, and allied with infinite dragons. Anduin elbowed Wrathion particularly hard, and muttered angrily in whispering tones, "_Now Neltharion is going to ally with them, Nozdormu told me to come here because supposedly I have some really important purpose— when do you think you wanna tell me about the world being destroyed and all?!_"

"You _have an important purpose?_" Wrathion laughed, it was somehow insulting; "_I'll bet he meant your purpose is to stop me_."

Anduin chuckled dryly, he pointed one hand in the bronze dragons' direction. "In case you haven't noticed, Kairoz _is_ a form of Nozdormu, _and he's allied with you_. Obviously, that means he wouldn't want me to _stop you_."

"Don't be so quick to judge," came the reply, "Nozdormu is directly opposed to Murozond, even though_ they're _the same dragon in alternate timelines. So Nozdormu is probably_ also _opposed to _Kairoz_, even if _they're_ the same guy."

"_What with all— all the kissing—_" Anduin stammered, suddenly shy; he was referring to the obvious affection Kairoz was showing Nozdormu. "_They're practically lovers— or something—_"

But most disconcerting was the fact that Nozdormu appeared to have almost _anticipated_ Kairoz's presence at the meeting; _that seemed to suggest they might have been allied somehow_.

In a protective impulse, Jaina picked up the words _kissing_ and _lovers_ emitted by Anduin's lips, and she turned rapidly to face him, _guilty because she'd been watching whatever scandalous thing the queen's consorts were up to—_

"You two shouldn't be watching that," she lectured Anduin directly, and now Aethas froze, _because he'd totally been watching it, too_. "Yeah!" he added for good measure, "Shame on you guys! That's not at all the sort of thing..." his mind raced in attempt to find a good reason _why_ they shouldn't be watching. _That sort of rigid princely discipline was exactly why he'd been so glad to study away in Dalaran..._

"Watching what?" Anduin asked, and Aethas blinked at the unexpected awareness that _Anduin really was that innocent_; Wrathion appeared equally confused.

"Wha— well—" Jaina stammered, gradually aware _she _was watching, but the princes weren't. She nudged Aethas painfully, "_Kael'thas, you were watching?_"

"What? _Of course not! No! What sort of... beast... do you think..._" he trailed off, and smiled despite himself as he stared at the consorts directly; he whispered to her, "_Oh, come on, you remember the parties at the Legerdemain Lounge_..." Jaina couldn't help chuckling at that. She whispered back, "_You can't mention that in front of him...!_"

"Right, human princes, so_ noble_," Aethas smiled, he rolled his eyes and held his hands up in mockery of being _impressed_. After that, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, "You're right, they're really not watching. Those two are so _dull_."

Jaina pushed him lightly, with an incredulous laugh. "You are _terrible_ influence."

"_You have no idea_," he sighed again, then remembered to stifle himself; _if he'd kept that up, she'd get the wrong idea about him entirely_.

Anduin and Wrathion had been too intently focused on the black and bronze aspects to notice all that other stuff; Anduin was more bitter than usual about his friend's refusal to tell him his secrets. "_I have some really important part in this! You have to tell me what's going on!_"

"Would you stop _pestering_ me? I can't afford to tell you anything. The last thing I need is _all of Stormwind_ ruining my plans."

Anduin's entire face contorted in preparation for some nasty remark, but it occurred to him Wrathion was right; _the end of the world_ was absolutely something all of Stormwind ought to do something about.

"Well, maybe all of Stormwind _needs_ to intervene!" he finally said, and regretted it immediately after, because now Wrathion _definitely_ wasn't gonna tell.

"_Oh!_" Wrathion huffed, like he couldn't handle the immense amount of exasperation he'd just been made to feel, "_Oh!_ Oh, _well now I'm definitely not gonna tell!_"

"_You know, that's exactly the sort of thing— by the Light, look at those two guys over there—_"

It seemed finally the princes took notice of the snogging consorts; they'd forgot their argument almost entirely, and were now staring mutely for several seconds, utterly stunned to see such a thing.

After some time, Anduin leaned close to Wrathion and whispered, "_Have you ever done... anything like that?_"

Wrathion flushed all at once. "_What?_" he recoiled, "_What kind of question is that?_"

But then, he appeared tentatively to assess Anduin's reaction out the corner of his eye, like he wasn't certain anymore whether _doing something like that_ was a good or bad thing.

"_That is— I mean— have you?_"

"_Ah—_" Anduin stammered, suddenly self-conscious of his innocence. "Well— not _exactly_ like that..."

His reply worried Wrathion greatly; it occurred to him _Anduin must be farther ahead_. He regarded Krasus, still dutifully sat with his head in the queen's lap, and realized that, at that point in time,_ Krasus must have been younger than his own current age._

_And he'd probably already sired at least one clutch_.

"Oh—" Wrathion said rapidly, "Well— _me too_. That is, not exactly like _that_, but— _you know_."

He gazed aside in mute panic, aware he now had to one-up his friend, _because, apparently, he, himself, was terribly behind_.

_In truth, Anduin hadn't got farther than kissing a girl on the lips_— so saying _that wasn't exactly_ like what they were watching wasn't _technically_ a lie.

He was taken off guard when finally Neltharion called the meeting to order, at last the queen's consorts looked up, both almost gasping for air; Malygos glanced up from where he'd been conjuring a particularly beautiful spell for the whelps, it was an elaborate set of blue blossoms, which glittered out of existence when Neltharion began to speak.

Wrathion's father went on to relay the purpose of the meeting, how in the distant future Azeroth would be in peril, and that he'd _confirmed with Nozdormu_ that this would be true.

"_With Nozdormu—"_ Anduin whispered to Jaina, "_He means Kairoz, he can't be trusted—_"

After that, Neltharion said he'd decided to lend the help of the black dragonflight, as wardens of the earth— because it was their foremost responsibility to protect Azeroth, regardless of whether help was needed in the present or future. He said the world would come under attack— _by the Legion_.

At this, the room erupted into commotion and chatter; Anduin, Jaina, and Aethas all stilled. "_The Legion_..." Anduin mouthed, Jaina appeared momentarily stunned; she slowly turned her head toward Aethas and whispered very softly, "_Tell me you're not somehow involved in this_."

He might have chastised her for _accusing him of sinister things_ again, _except he could not deny, something stirred in his heart to remember Kil'jaeden._

_The power of it seduced him in a way that was nearly impossible to resist, and he fought terribly hard to block it out of mind_.

"I have nothing to do with this, I told you," he said,_ but in his voice there was unmistakable longing; _it sounded almost like _heartache_.

Anduin nervously gripped Wrathion's arm, "_You knew this. You knew this all along. Tell me this is another of your lies._"

"It's another of my lies," Wrathion sighed, audibly annoyed; _there his father gave away his secret bluntly_.

"_I don't believe you!_" Anduin said, "It's not a lie, is it? This time it's real!"

At his side, Jaina appeared to be struggling for clarity; she was thinking aloud, "There must be some way to find out if this is true. Velen might know. He can see visions of the future."

Ysera had her hands over the ears of one of her whelps; she was shaking her head at Neltharion in disapproval and said, "_This isn't something for whelps to hear!_" She turned to Alexstrasza after that and sighed, "I just couldn't find a sitter on such short notice..."

Now Neltharion had his arms raised and was trying to silence the room back into order.

"There's an artifact I've been meaning to have constructed for a while— and now it seems its time has come. I believe it should be able to combat even forces as strong as those of the Legion, but I'll need assistance from the other flights."

At this, Jaina paled. She swore under her breath, audibly frightened; "_No. Tell me this isn't what I think it is. But how can this be? Wasn't he already corrupted when he decided to make the— _" she gripped Wrathion's arm and seethed with pure anger, "_You're behind this. You and Kairoz, and Murozond—Do you realize what this means?_"

But Wrathion appeared equally afraid; his eyes went wide with the realization of what he'd done by coming here; _he'd never imagined he'd lead his father to do the very evil he'd resolved himself to escape_.

However, it was ultimately Nozdormu who spoke; he rose to his feet with determination he'd not shown since they'd got there, and faced Neltharion directly. "_No_," he said, "Absolutely not. The Dragon Soul was a terrible horror; it will destroy the Legion, _but it will destroy the world with it, too_."

Jaina and Anduin glanced with pure hope, and now Wrathion also rose from his seat. "Nozdormu is right," he said, "The Dragon Soul will destroy the very world we seek to protect." _You will destroy the world, yourself, Father_.

Beside Neltharion, Kairoz appeared completely exasperated, he leaned back in his seat with both hands rubbing hard at his eyes, _like he was terribly overworked_.

"_Why_ don't you just let _me_ do the talking," he sighed, and it wasn't certain whether he was speaking to Nozdormu or Wrathion; "We won't make the Dragon Soul the way it was made before—"

"Don't listen to him," Jaina said, "he's been plotting with infinite— dra...gons..." she trailed off, aware suddenly that _infinite dragons_ weren't something the other flights present had heard of before.

At that, Kairoz shot Aethas a death glare that had him still with fright— because Kairoz thought that if Jaina knew this much, it meant Aethas must have squealed what he'd overheard.

"I haven't said anything!" Aethas sputtered, and now he _definitely_ seemed to Jaina like he'd been conspiring with the infinite dragons; Wrathion and Anduin both glanced at him, and Jaina murmured, "You said you weren't in league with them... you're not still in service of Kil'jaden, are you?"

"Jaina— you don't honestly think— _I swear, I'm not in league with them or Kil'jaeden_."

"Kil'jaeden?" Anduin asked in confusion, "Aethas is in league with Kil'jaeden?" His voice was inhumanly tender, like he was trying to_ understand_, and _forgive_, and offer _hope_.

Aethas groaned tiredly, he was rubbing at his face with visible annoyance. "Seriously, what did I _just say? _I said I'm _not_ in league with Kil'jaden..." he grumbled.

Neltharion sighed as he tried uselessly to call order to the room once again, he was now stood with Kairoz at his side; His voice came with a kind, fatherly sort of smile, and he spoke calmly.

"With all due respect," he said, and got one arm around Kairoz, "_I've known Nozdormu since before the dawn of our kind_— and my own judgment is not so _terribly_ flawed. Either way, rest assured, my sisters and brothers, that none here will be _forced_ to take any course of action they do not wish to take. _Let us at least hear what he has to say_."

There was some whispering and chatter amongst the guests, and in the meantime Kairoz leaned forth toward Nozdormu; his hands caressed gently along both sides of his face, he spoke to him in soft, intimate tones. "_I would never wish you harm_," he whispered, "_I have no greater wish than for you to live forever_."

He released him almost with regret and turned finally to face the others. "It is true that the Dragon Soul had caused terrible things," he said, "but this is because of the _way_ it was _constructed_. I believe it can be purified, and the black dragonflight, too, can be saved."

He regarded Nozdormu out the corner of his eye and spoke momentarily to him. "_You had seen it, hadn't you, long ago— before you'd lost your vision of the future— a powerful and holy prophet of the Light will rise within Azeroth, with the ability to end corruption—_"

Nozdormu shook his head like he were somehow confused; he was now arguing with Kairoz directly. "You can't be serious," he laughed, "_That's_ your plan? That's as good as legend, it was only a vision and an arbitrary one at that, you can't _take that for truth_— and even if it _were _fact, it wouldn't happen for thousands of years, and we wouldn't even know where to begin looking—"

"Wouldn't we?" Kairoz asked, "_but you've brought him to us for exactly this reason_."

Nozdormu squinted, he still appeared very perplexed; "What are you..." he trailed off, aware Kairoz had slowly turned to look at Anduin.

Anduin's brow furrowed when he noticed them both staring; he looked around, clearly confused, one finger slowly pointing to himself.

"What— you don't mean— _me?!_"

He chuckled, like it was a pretty good joke, but he could tell Kairoz was serious; _he could feel everyone's eyes on him_.

"I—" he laughed and shook his head, "I'm not _a powerful prophet_."

He turned sideward to Jaina, then Wrathion, in attempt to have their support.

"No," Kairoz said, "_not yet_."

_(On to Chapter 7)  
><em>

_A/N: I would love to find someone interested in roleplaying Warcraft lore, especially Wrathion/Anduin, though there are a lot of lore characters I like. I've had a very difficult time finding anyone interested in this, as WoW fangirls usually like RPing their OCs (which I'm not interested in doing). It's cool by me if you're not completely versed in the lore, I'm not a die-hard lore person, myself, and it's something you can read about a bit at a time as necessary. If you feel like giving it a go, please message me!_


	7. Chapter 7

Following the talks on part of Neltharion and Kairoz, the guests were given an intermission to discuss matters amongst themselves; the black aspect had emphasized that none will be coerced to agree or participate if they didn't wish to do so. He was approached by both Wrathion and Jaina, who spoke over each other in anxious tones, they asked very insistently that he reconsider this terrible idea.

"I don't care what sort of vision the bronze dragons had," Jaina told Anduin after that, "you'll take no part in this." Anduin agreed absently without really listening; he was far too overwhelmed by everything he'd heard, from the Legion's impending invasion to this news about the Dragon Soul, _to his own supposed destiny as some kind of prophet_.

Somewhere in the background, he was aware of Wrathion and Jaina's voices as they spoke to Neltharion again, Jaina was now asking whether Kairoz had also been so helpful as to mention what the Dragon Soul had turned Neltharion into, in her own timeline.

Anduin stared at some random area of the cave floor, his hands idly drew patterns in the soft sand as he thought of this; the prospect of creating the Dragon Soul was indeed horrifying, _but he couldn't shake a feeling he'd had since the night he'd realized he had to come here—_ somewhere inside, he inexplicably _knew_ he had a role here.

There was too much noise in that part of the cavern, and he couldn't think clearly— he was badly enough distracted as it were, with everyone arguing and talking loudly he was able to get up and quietly walk away. He crossed the large hall where the meeting was held, and then proceeded absently down one of the branching corridors, the pads of his fingers trailed loosely along the stony walls; the way was illuminated at intervals by glowing colored lichens and gems, his shadow hovered malformed on the earthy floor.

It occurred to him he'd felt somehow useless ever since he'd heard about the world's nearing demise, Wrathion never told him anything because he thought he'd only _interfere_— _but here was his chance to do something. _

_He could conceivably have a hand in protecting the world_, and something in him hungered desperately to do so.

But what if it all were just a bunch of lies, devised craftily by Kairoz and Murozond— what if they tried knowingly to seduce him with false suggestions, because they _knew_ it would make him eager to participate? He thought, _I shouldn't buy so readily into such a thing_, _if I were to become some sort of prophet, Velen would have seen it. He would have told me_.

It was a very disappointing thing to realize, but it seemed logical— this he could not deny.

On his journey down the corridor, he felt a slight draft, he blinked in confusion as he'd not realized there was a second exit from the lair; he followed down the hallway until he'd rounded a bend, and saw that, some distance before him, the floor of the cave appeared curiously to dissolve into something like mist, and beyond it was a grassy, wooded area.

_A portal_, he thought, because he knew the region outside the cavern was heavily covered by snow; this wasn't just an exit from the lair. However, it was unlike any portal he'd encountered, and it was strange that he could actually _feel_ the chill of the air outside.

Very vaguely, he could make out a figure stood in the forest dressed in red, his voice could be heard weakly, like something muffled underwater; and it occurred to Anduin he was casting some sort of spell. The shimmering beams of the spell's magic became increasingly _real_, and as the vision better materialized, he could see there was also a raised, rounded banister, which seemed to surround some sort of pool.

The caster seemed entirely oblivious to the portal or Anduin's presence, and it slowly became apparent that other casters were there as well, stood in a ring around the man in red— they were dressed in foreign garbs, and seemed to be assisting whatever it was he was doing. _Night elves_, Anduin realized, and it was odd, because the night elves were notoriously opposed to arcane magic.

He tried to put his hand through the portal, but his fingers merely passed through like the images were only some sort of projection, his brow furrowed as he continued to watch; he'd become aware of a growing sensation of dread, he could see through the portal that whatever ritual the night elves were holding would soon reach its intended purpose, and gasped despite himself to see _they were calling demons forth_.

_The Legion_, he thought, he waited for some terrible conclusion to the scene— as the sound became clearer, _indeed he could hear them call to Mannoroth_. He'd been so focused on trying to comprehend the scenery, in attempt to figure out where this was, that he hadn't noticed until then how well the details had now resolved; Anduin noticed he could now see the people's faces quite clearly.

He looked on in confusion on realizing the caster in red wasn't a night elf, _he was a high elf_, with long blond hair. _But high elves didn't exist yet in this time_, he thought, _maybe it was a dragon who took that form, like Malygos or Krasus_—

_No_, he could tell when the image was finally very clear, he now noticed that this elf's eyes were glowing bright green, and _blood elves_, he knew, _definitely didn't exist yet in this time_. He tried getting a better look, but now the scene slowly began to dissolve, like some magical projection cast unto smoke that was slowly thinning into the air.

"_No!_" Anduin muttered in frustration, his hands moved through the vision, which now came completely apart; soon the temperature in the hall returned to a comfortable warmth, and he could see that the corridor continued on in a twisting path that was obscured by the portal before.

It occurred to him then that his pulse was going fast, he looked around the placid hallway as though to find any remaining traces of the portal, but there was nothing there; he trotted a few yards farther down, but the cave appeared completely ordinary.

"By the Light, what was that?" he asked the empty hall, he felt a pressing need to ask Neltharion about the strange portal in his lair. _What did it mean? _Was it some sort of time portal into the future, where blood elves and night elves were calling the Legion? Was that how the demons would eventually invade Azeroth?

Anduin turned on his heels and began making his way back to the larger room where the meeting was held, he'd not noticed he'd passed another small hallway until some fragment of speech from nearby caught his attention: _the Well of Eternity_. It was spoken in draconic, but he recognized the term well enough.

He slowed down his steps, and couldn't help listening in; there were voices of people speaking in a room nearby, in deliberately hushed tones.

"_I have a purpose there, too_," someone said, "_something very dear to my heart_."

"I know," said another voice, and the words had an oddly _compassionate_ ring; "We bronze dragons took something from you, and you would like it back very much."

_Kairoz_, Anduin thought; the other voice was also familiar, and Anduin noticed on a certain inflection that he recognized the accent; _Thalassian_. It had to be Aethas.

"_Please_," Aethas said, he spoke with what sounded like humility; it occurred to Anduin that, whatever it was he wanted, _he wanted it very much_.

Of course, it made sense: what blood elf _wouldn't_ want badly to visit the Well of Eternity, it was something they must have dreamed of for thousands of years; _but what did the bronze dragons take from him?_ And if Aethas had come to Kairoz with this request, did it mean Kairoz and the infinite dragons intended to visit the Well of Eternity?

_That can't be good_, he thought, the Well's waters were notoriously powerful, and if Kairoz had some sinister purpose—

Before he could hear the next bit, someone's hand rapidly came on his mouth from behind, Anduin stiffened completely; there came the humid warmth of breath just at his ear, and the sway of soft hair.

"_Silence, mortal_," someone spoke, even though Anduin hadn't made a sound; it occurred to him that, whoever this was, he wanted to listen in on this, too. Anduin saw after that that some sort of magical barrier was formed around them, he slowly turned his head to see.

He recognized that Malygos was stood directly behind him, the blue aspect had spoken so little that entire afternoon that Anduin wondered if he'd heard his voice earlier at all; he now talked just at Anduin's ear, seductive somehow. "_Don't ever help those two. They intend to use the Well's waters for terrible magic, Neltharion's brood was right to object_." He went on after that to explain that the barrier he had cast would prevent _Nozdormu_ from smelling or hearing them._ He means Kairoz_, Anduin understood.

He thought of the Nexus wars, how Malygos had been intensely opposed to the use of magic by mortals— and wondered if his words now were at all founded in bias, by Malygos' own distaste for the Well's use to that end.

But what if he was right? Why would Aethas need to meet with Kairoz _in secret?_ He remembered Jaina's words about _Aethas conspiring with the infinite dragons_.

She had also said he'd conspired with_ Kil'jaeden_.

But the way he spoke now didn't sound like something crafty or sinister; it occurred to Anduin that Aethas sounded almost like he were _grieving the loss of a loved one_.

It left him feeling uncomfortably like he was intruding on something very intimate.

None of it made any sense; _he wondered if he was meant to help somehow_, and it occurred to him after that that he'd actually been considering _helping_ with something that could be quite dangerous.

Very tentatively, Malygos' hand slid down from over Anduin's mouth, like he didn't quite trust him to behave himself once he could talk; Anduin slowly caught his breath, he proceeded to turn around.

From up close, Malygos was enchanting in a way he'd not really realized; he appeared a wizard through and through, it occurred to Anduin that his timid demeanor was misleading. _It made you unaware of the tremendous power that lay beneath_. After some time, he felt he had to look away, because Malygos' eyes were somehow spellbinding; it was almost like he felt he would sink unknowingly into some abyss he could never escape.

"I couldn't help them even if I wanted to," Anduin said, "I don't have the powers they say I have, and I suspect it was all some kind of lie they made up in attempt to seduce me."

"You have powers," Malygos said, "_I can feel them._"

"I'm a priest of the Light," came the reply, "But not a powerful prophet."

Malygos appeared after that deep in thought; for some time, his expression was unreadable. "Perhaps that's all it is," he finally said.

They were both taken off guard by what sounded like footsteps within the room; Malygos gripped Anduin quickly and blinked some distance away from the entrance, to just behind a curve in the corridor. Anduin was about to speak up by that point, he didn't like being grabbed and transported without his discretion, _maybe he'd had enough of that while growing up_.

However, Malygos rapidly hushed him, before he could say much— they watched Kairoz and Aethas make their way out of the room, which confirmed Anduin's suspicions about who the speakers were.

After the two figures turned to head back to the main hall, Anduin thought of another matter that weighed on his mind; "Would it be all right to ask something," he said, like he were somehow reluctant to speak of it— _because there was no way to do so without sounding dumb_. "Do you know if Neltharion has magical portals in his lair?"

Malygos stared back for some time; Anduin wondered if the blue aspect outright _disliked_ mortals, or if he was just very introverted and timid, and that he, himself, had got the wrong impression. _He can't dislike mortals. The dragon aspects are meant to protect us_.

"Magical portals?" Malygos asked, he regarded Anduin in a way that made him feel almost _certain_ he thought mortals were complete imbeciles— _and that he, Anduin, was a prime example of that_.

Despite that, he went on to relay to him how he had seen a portal some distance away along the corridor, and how it was quite a _strange_ portal, because he could feel the cool temperature of the outdoors through it; he'd almost told about the events he had seen, but then stopped himself. _He wasn't certain why, but he didn't want to say anything about those dreadful events_.

"A portal? Where?" Malygos asked, he sounded terribly condescending, like _portals_ were his own domain, which _clearly_ Anduin wouldn't know anything about.

"It's not there anymore," Anduin replied, "I saw it for some time, but then it vanished."

"Show me where it was, I'll be able to pick up traces of magic if it had been there."

After that, Anduin led Malygos down the hallway, but he couldn't find the part of the cave where he'd been before; they'd walked very far, until they'd finally reached the end of the pathway, and Anduin stood there in confusion, wondering if he'd made some mistake somewhere along the way.

"That's odd," he said sheepishly, "I could've sworn... well, maybe we've passed it..."

He felt awfully foolish, but proceeded to lead Malygos back, and this time he made sure to look in adjacent corners and branching halls— but he couldn't quite find that same place again. "And you've— not picked up any signs of magic anywhere along the way?" he asked.

"You waste my time, mortal," Malygos said, _like he hadn't just spent like two hours idly doing tricks for little whelps_, "There are no traces of magic here, and Neltharion wouldn't know how to conjure a portal even if he'd wanted to."

_Maybe I'll ask Aunt Jaina_, Anduin thought, but he knew that even if Jaina was a powerful mage, she wasn't more powerful than the blue aspect— and if Malygos hadn't picked up any traces, _then that meant there probably weren't any_.

"And what did you see through this _portal_?" Malygos asked.

"Ah—" Anduin stammered, somehow taken off guard. "Nothing remarkable. Just— some grass and trees."

He felt himself inwardly shrink under Malygos' gaze, his expression was unreadable again and Anduin was almost certain he wasn't buying it— but in the end he merely sighed and said, "Whatever it was, it wasn't a portal. Portals don't work like that anyway, you don't _feel the climate_ through them. You must've imagined the whole thing."

"I didn't imagine it!" Anduin protested, he didn't like being dismissed for a fool; but, more than anything, he was really quite confused now.

"Look, I'm sorry I can't help you," Malygos said, "but there was nothing arcane here. Maybe you should consult with some other priest."

_That's great_, Anduin thought,_ except I'm like the only priest on the planet right now_. He watched Malygos walk away down the hall.

Then, something occurred to him.

_No, there were other priests on Azeroth during this time period— _they had called the Light_ Elune_.

XXX

As he proceeded to walk back, Anduin wished he hadn't led Malygos so far down the twisting bends of the cave, he began to feel lost and worried he'd be late for the next part of the meeting; his mood improved vastly when he recognized Wrathion's familiar voice from nearby, he was heard speaking with somebody else. Anduin had almost called out to him— but he held back, because he took notice it sounded like an_ intimate_ sort of conversation, that would be very embarrassing to intrude on.

_It made him inexplicably jealous_, and though he'd had quite enough of listening in on the private matters of others, he'd resolved himself that this time he'd only listen until there'd be some particularly incriminating part, _and then he'd accuse Wrathion directly_.

_What is the matter with me?_ he thought, thoroughly ashamed; _I'm meant to show compassion and forgiveness, not..._

_...jealous possession_.

He gazed discreetly, and saw that Wrathion appeared to be bargaining with Krasus, or attempting to do so; the queen's consort appeared to be denying him outright. "Absolutely not," he said, he turned around and pointed directly to his behind, where there was the inscription, _Property of the Queen_. "You see this? This means I'm _not for rent_. Wanna know how I got this?"

Wrathion sighed, though he was staring at Krasus' behind in a way that vastly irritated Anduin— he then went on in the sort of aristocratic, seductive voice Anduin knew well, _the sort he used when he manipulated people to do his bidding_. "I'm merely asking that you _teach_ me," he said, like it were the most _innocent_ thing in the world.

_Teach you?!_ Anduin seethed inwardly, _You want him to bloody teach you?!_

"Absolutely not," Krasus said again, without missing a beat; "I am _property of the queen_, and _the queen only_."

Finally, Wrathion smiled; he held his hands to his sides like _there was nothing to be done_. "Very well," he grinned, "then I suppose there's no more I can do to convince you."

_But Anduin knew him better; this was only part of the act. _He watched Krasus take an elegant bow and then turn to head back to the main part of the hall; to his annoyance, he recognized very briefly what looked like _desire_ in the consort's eyes.

Then Wrathion's voice came with very convincing disinterest and nonchalance, he asked while seeming to inspect his claws absently, "By the way, so how _did_ you get that?"

_The inscription, he meant_.

Krasus stilled and looked over his shoulder; his voice wavered just a little when he spoke. "Malygos," he said, "_If I were you, I'd do well to stay away from him_."

_Malygos..._ Anduin mouthed, _he'd always thought it was a bit odd that Krasus, the queen's consort and a red dragon at that, was such a high-ranking and powerful mage_.

His thoughts were interrupted when Wrathion spoke. "How long are you planning on hiding there?" He turned to face him directly, "_Anduin Wrynn_."

Anduin flushed immediately, and then he remembered he was quite upset with Wrathion; he stepped out from where he'd been stood and glared like he'd _caught him in the act_.

"_So!_" he huffed, now relishing in his anger, "_So...!_"

Wrathion raised an eyebrow. "So _what_?"

"_So!_" Anduin was now slowly pacing around Wrathion, he pointed one finger at him. "What the hell was _that_ all about? _Were you propositioning the queen's consort for s— for sex?_"

He spoke the last words quietly, while looking around to be sure no one else could hear.

"Tried to," Wrathion sighed, "But you heard him, _property of the queen_."

_Like he wasn't at all bothered_.

"_A-ha!_" Anduin sputtered, he wiggled the finger he had pointed a little. "_You even admit it!_"

Now Wrathion raised _both_ eyebrows. "Anduin Wrynn, are you _jealous_?"

"What— _jealous?!_" Anduin laughed, "_No, _I'm not_ jealous— and quit calling me by my full name every time, it's so freaking annoying._"

Wrathion regarded him, utterly unfazed, like his reaction was terribly _barbaric_.

Anduin was stood in place with arms crossed, he huffed aside and laughed dryly, "Pff, why would I be _jealous_..."

"Of course," Wrathion smiled with that charming, _irritating_ grin, "_No reason at all_."

"Why would _I_ care if you want— to— _solicit the services— of the queen's consort—_"

"Of course you wouldn't."

"_Exactly! I don't! I mean— if those are the sorts of morals you have—_"

Wrathion bloody _laughed_, his fangs glinted dangerously in the low light of the torches; "Anduin, I'm flattered," he said, "And here all this time I was certain you thought I _had no morals_."

"_You don't! You're a liar and a sneak! You betrayed me, just because—_"

_Because you wanted to protect our world from the Legion, and thought I would get in your way_.

Now Wrathion was pacing around him slowly, like he was somehow aware he'd got him to understand; he paused just at his shoulder, Anduin felt his clawed fingers close one by one on his upper arm.

"You _are_ jealous," Wrathion's voice came quiet and low, his breath ghosted humidly just at Anduin's ear; "_My old friend, be not bothered by such meaningless things; you've always known the place you have in my heart_."

Anduin stilled at the pressure of Wrathion's lips, warm and insistent at the side of his neck; _he thought he'd never felt something so sweet_.

"I'm not— jealous—" he murmured weakly; when he'd been released, he thought he'd lose his balance and fall.

"Let us head back," Wrathion said with impeccable composure, "I hope that kiss won't cloud your thoughts, you'll need a clear mind for the rest of the meeting."

Anduin watched him walk off, he absently fingered the side of his neck; _despite himself, he was stupidly smiling_.

_(On to Chapter 8)  
><em>

_A/N: I would love to find someone interested in roleplaying Warcraft lore, especially Wrathion/Anduin, though there are a lot of lore characters I like. I've had a very difficult time finding anyone interested in this, as WoW fangirls usually like RPing their OCs (which I'm not interested in doing). It's cool by me if you're not completely versed in the lore, I'm not a die-hard lore person, myself, and it's something you can read about a bit at a time as necessary. If you feel like giving it a go, please message me!_


	8. Chapter 8

Wrathion had put on convincing airs of nonchalance, but inside he was utterly anxious; _he'd never kissed someone like that_. He'd been terribly nervous about doing it, or about confessing such personal things, and, truly, _Anduin's jealousy had flattered him_. And although he was completely opposed to the creation of the Dragon Soul, he didn't entirely dismiss Kairoz's prediction that Anduin would become a powerful prophet: _there was something he'd remembered, years ago during his friend's recovery, after being crushed by the Bell—_

In the large part of the cavern, the guests were beginning to settle back down into their seats, Malygos was stood at the front of the room, he appeared to speak intently with Neltharion; Anduin roused from his dreams on seeing them, he remembered he'd wanted to ask Neltharion about the portal. _I'll wait until after Malygos leaves_, he thought, he imagined the blue aspect wouldn't much like to hear him on about this topic a second time.

It occurred to him he'd been quite nervous about taking his seat beside Wrathion, he'd become shy of him and began wondering _what it meant_— truly, how could his friend have done such a thing, and then expected him to have a _clear mind_...? He'd concerned himself so much with _what Wrathion must be thinking_ that he'd forgot entirely to ask Jaina's opinion about all he'd witnessed during the break.

_His neck tingled where he'd kissed him_.

He turned his face the other way so Wrathion wouldn't see him smile.

Gradually, the commotion settled down and the hall fell quiet when Neltharion proceeded again to address the guests; he explained that he'd been approached by a number of individuals explicitly opposed to the creation of the Dragon Soul, and some very much in favor. Ultimately he'd concluded the risk was too great, and a different solution had to be found.

At Anduin's side, Wrathion and Jaina both appeared very relieved, Jaina leaned her head forth like she was emotionally exhausted, and silently mouthed, _thank you_.

_Anduin, however, could not deny there was somewhere in him a bout of disappointment— it occurred to him he'd been deeply moved by the prospect of having a role here_.

"Let us not be too hasty," a voice broke the silence from across the hall; Anduin expected it would be Kairoz, but on glancing up he saw Aethas rise from his seat. Jaina slowly turned to look, with something like dread.

Aethas pivoted elegantly in place, he turned to address the room with natural grace and then moved to face Neltharion. "You say the Dragon Soul can be _purified_," he said, he spoke the word with such emotional emphasis it sounded almost like he found the concept _fascinating_.

_Kael'thas, what are you doing?_ Jaina thought, she wondered if his addiction to magic had completely corrupted his judgment; she didn't want to believe he really was allied with the infinite dragons,_ or worse, with Kil'jaeden_.

At the front of the room, Kairoz appeared both surprised and content, he seemed visibly amused as he listened to see _where this would go_.

Aethas paced slowly through the hall until he stopped just behind Anduin; he leaned forth and got one hand on his shoulder. "It's _too early_ to give up hope," he said, "if this human truly bears such an ability, the potential implications are immense. _The holy power of a purified Dragon Soul—_"

He stopped when some noise came from the opposite side of the room; there issued a flutter of fabric from a small corner of the cave as Malygos rose to his feet, his blue robes shimmered in low magical winds, and his gaze fell directly on Aethas.

For some moments, Aethas thought himself transfixed, there came in Malygos' expression the same secretive smile he'd had when first he'd arrived that day, his laughter was odd but curiously charming. "Certainly this would suit _your_ interests, mortal," he said, and then his eyes turned to Neltharion. "You might be interested to know, dear friend, that this _little mage_ has been influenced by Nozdormu. He is a powerful practitioner of magic, and intends to make some malevolent use of the Well of Eternity."

The words cut through Aethas like the most brutal sort of knife; he'd been nearly numbed and seduced by Malygos' gaze when the accusation struck, and the most intimate contents of his heart had been laid bare. He regarded Malygos like he were purely cruel, and like he, Aethas, had been openly humiliated at his most fragile point.

Kairoz glared at Malygos silently, he whispered to him through clenched teeth, "_I'll deal with you later, little darling_."

Jaina regarded Aethas incredulously; it occurred to her she really had wanted to trust him, but Malygos' words seemed to confirm both of her fears: indeed he seemed to be allied _both_ with the infinite dragons _and_ with Kil'jaeden. _She could easily guess how he'd want to use the Well_.

But Anduin couldn't shake the feeling that Aethas' intentions were_ innocent_; maybe he _wasn't thinking straight_, maybe it was because of the kiss; maybe he'd felt resentful of Malygos, after he'd seemed so dismissive and condescending— but truly, he'd hoped it was something purer than that.

_None among them, he believed, was beyond redemption_.

He stood at Aethas' side without really knowing him at all, and spoke as his advocate. "Too long has our friend faced condemnation," he said, and gazed directly at Malygos; "In our timeline, he'd been imprisoned in his own city, by his own colleagues in the ruling council, on account of _baseless _accusations— and our accusations tonight are baseless, as well. We have no reason to believe his intent is malevolent. _I feel his heart is pure_."

Jaina rolled her eyes, like here was another _enlightened and empowered_ speech by a young person who was certain he _knew better_ than everyone who actually had experience, just because some novel insight he had was emotionally overwhelming to him. _She wondered how it was that his mystical priestly gifts had not also made him "feel" that this same guy had summoned Kil'jaeden through the Sunwell not too long ago_.

At the front of the room, Malygos appeared particularly annoyed, but before he and Aethas could exchange further words, Alexstrasza's voice issued forth.

"My dear friends," she said, and slowly all gazes fell upon her; "at this dark hour we ought not turn on each other in strife; this problem has a simple and logical solution. If our human prince indeed bears the power to purify corrupted items, these abilities can be tested and trained on objects of lesser power than the Dragon Soul. If indeed he is proven to possess this ability and employ it to our satisfaction, the red dragonflight will lend its aid in creating the Soul."

At this, Ysera also spoke; "A wise solution," she said, "in that event, the green dragonflight, too, will lend its aid."

"No, my sister," said the queen, "I should ask that only the black dragonflight contribute, as wardens of the earth; in the event that the worst happens, the Soul will need to be destroyed, and therefore we must not all empower it. This way, the aspects not invested in the object will outnumber those who had been invested— it will be a failsafe."

"But, your Highness," Neltharion spoke, "your powers far outweigh any of ours. Only the black dragonflight should contribute."

Alexstrasza appeared to think this through; Neltharion seemed to have a point. After some moments she finally said, "At this time, we do not yet know whether the Dragon Soul should be created; let us first see to this, and then we shall decide who among us should contribute."

XXX

The meeting's conclusion saw a great deal of animosity descend upon Anduin; Jaina, for one, was quite upset, she had pulled him into a corner and was pacing in place while angrily muttering. "_Of all the foolish, irresponsible things— _this is because Aethas said you have a gift, isn't it?"

"Aunt Jaina—"

"Don't _Aunt Jaina_ me! Ho _ho!_ You _might_ have a gift, and you might not, that remains to be seen— but do you need to be reminded of what _Deathwing _was? Oh, but _no_, it's _worse than that, now! _It's more than just _Deathwing all over again_, I think my favorite bit was when you were like, _I can feel his heart is pure_—" She said the last bit in a ridiculously shrill voice, while waving her hands around.

"Did you enjoy making me look like an idiot, with your speech about his _baseless imprisonment_? Since you can _feel his_ _heart is so pure?_"

She leaned in very close after that, to be sure no one might overhear. "_Do you want to know why he shouldn't be allowed near the Well of Eternity? Do you want to know who Aethas really is?_"

She looked behind her to be sure no one was walking nearby, and then whispered to him angrily, "_Are you familiar with the name Kael'thas Sunstrider? Prince of Quel'thalas? When you were still a kid, he summoned—_"

Anduin regarded her wide-eyed, trapped between her and the wall of the cave; he finished the sentence for her in nearly inaudible tones. "_—summoned Kil'jaeden through the Sunwell._"

Without meaning to, he tried to look over Jaina's shoulder, to catch a glimpse of Aethas; "You're kidding," he whispered, "you can't be serious. Aethas is _him_?"

Jaina appeared to fight for composure; very slowly, she'd gained control of her rage, and became aware that beneath her temper her heart hurt inexplicably. "You aren't entirely wrong," she said, "I believe he means well; but he is too dangerous, he should not be brought _actively_ to the Well."

Anduin caught sight of Aethas somewhere across the room; he appeared like the same familiar elf who'd been in their party recently, the notion he might have been the infamous late prince of Quel'thalas was terribly odd. Anduin might have asked how it was that he'd survived death, that he was walking around freely, and that Jaina _knew his identity_— but he didn't question any of this; _despite everything he'd heard, he couldn't shake the feeling Aethas was innocent_.

"Aunt Jaina, I forgot to tell you— but during the break, Malygos and I overheard Kairoz and Aethas speaking—"

"_So they are allied—_"

"Maybe," Anduin said, "but it didn't sound like they were up to malevolent things. Kairoz said the bronze dragonflight had taken something from Aethas, and that he probably wants it back very much."

At this, Jaina's brow furrowed. "Of course, Kairoz would know who he is; he can see his past. But what did the bronze dragonflight take from him?"

"I don't know." Anduin thought for a moment, and then gazed at Jaina directly. "I can't really explain it, but he sounded very— _sad_— I don't think he wants to go there to gain some sort of power."

Jaina considered this; it occurred to her how little she'd paid attention to Kael'thas personally when she knew him within the Council of Six; much had been lost in the invasion of Quel'thalas, maybe there were some sentimental items or artifacts that dated back to his great, great grandfather, Dath'remar—

"It's still too risky," she said, "Anduin, I don't want to hurt him, either— but we came here to _stop_ the Legion, not usher its invasion of Azeroth."

XXX

Jaina's fury had been nothing compared with what Anduin faced from Wrathion after the meeting; when they were finally alone, the Black Prince charged at him in a flurry of rage, he toppled him to the cave floor and straddled his hips with an angry battle roar.

"_You unbelievable idiot!_" Wrathion seethed, "What in the hell were you thinking?! This right here, _this is exactly why I didn't want you involved!_"

Anduin thought he'd had quite enough of being lectured; in a great feat of effort, he lunged upward to Wrathion and rolled him onto his side, until they were wrestling angrily on the floor.

"Don't put this on me!" he snarled, he paid no heed to the way his princely garbs were soiled in the sand; his hair had come messy all over his face, but he kept tight hold of Wrathion's collar.

"_You should have considered the Dragon Soul when you came to Neltharion for help in the first place! And Alexstrasza was right, she's not some idiot—_"

"You're just saying she was right because she wants to _test your holy talents_, you're doing this for— _ugh!_— _for personal— gain!_"

"_How dare you!_" Anduin's face soured at the implication his motive was selfish somehow; "_You're only opposed to her because her— oof— consort— turned you down!_"

"_That's it_—" Wrathion growled, what followed was a long and ugly physical fight, where neither ultimately emerged the winner— but where finally the two managed to exert the anger and tension they'd had simmering for years.

After some time, they were both utterly filthy, their uniforms were completely wrinkled and covered with dirt, they were still tangled together and half-assedly batting at each other.

"_I'm—_" Wrathion breathed, "_I'ma switch to my true form in like two seconds, and then you'll really get it—_"

"_Try it—_" Anduin's voice came tired and hoarse, he had his eyes closed and lips parted with breath. "_Try it and I'll call down holy fire on you, so hard—_"

"You wouldn't dare."

"I will."

"You're not gonna do that—"

"I will! I'm totally doing it! _I'm doing it right now—_"

Anduin closed his eyes and brought his hands together, which was a bit difficult with Wrathion's left leg tangled over one of his elbows, _and his leg was pretty fucking heavy_.

He brought his hands into his best approximation of a prayer position, quite uncomfortably, and began silently mouthing words until a small light appeared between his palms; at this, Wrathion gripped both Anduin's wrists and pulled them widely apart, and with great exertion he got them both held securely on the cave floor.

"You are seriously such a dick," he said, and Anduin laughed. "I _told you!_ I _told _you I was gonna, that's what you get—"

His words were muffled when Wrathion's lips came on his; at that, his hands lost their struggle. _He'd not realized how badly he'd wanted this till it came, _how half of his anger was really the hurt of not being acknowledged.

He let Wrathion hold him down and fervently kissed him back, he silently murmured,

"_I've missed you—_"

_(On to Chapter 9)  
><em>

XXX

_A/N: I would love to find someone interested in roleplaying Warcraft lore, especially Wrathion/Anduin, though there are a lot of lore characters I like. I've had a very difficult time finding anyone interested in this, as WoW fangirls usually like RPing their OCs (which I'm not interested in doing). It's cool by me if you're not completely versed in the lore, I'm not a die-hard lore person, myself, and it's something you can read about a bit at a time as necessary. If you feel like giving it a go, please message me!_


	9. Chapter 9

Anduin had definitely never _kissed someone like that_. It was bloody brilliant, he felt eternally grateful to Wrathion for being so kind, for _letting him do this_; the fact that his uniform had got wrinkled and filthy didn't matter in the least. They'd been at it with such rushed desperation they hadn't stopped to think, they'd both _waited their entire lives_ to finally feel what this was like; they were both terribly clumsy and awkward, _but it was okay_, they wondered _how far they'd be allowed to go_.

All the while, Wrathion was rather concerned, because earlier Anduin had suggested he'd had some experience; Wrathion wondered if he, himself, had come off terribly naive to him. _He would have liked to hide such a thing, but wasn't sure how. _

He thought,_ if I do anything stupid, I'll just say that's how dragons do things, and that he just wouldn't understand_.

Very carefully, he slid one hand beneath Anduin's shirt, his heart was going fast with his own boldness— he watched Anduin out the corner of his eye to assess his reaction, but he still appeared to be fine.

_I'm so awesome right now_, Wrathion observed, he believed himself very mature and adult; his hand trailed experimentally over the flat expanse of Anduin's abdomen, up to the costal margin and the alternating ridges of his ribs, _and Anduin totally let him_.

"I totally wouldn't have asked Krasus if I knew you'd let me do this," he said in a brilliant show of tact, and Anduin absolutely took it as a compliment; his laughter came breathy, "Well, how was I supposed to know you wanted to do this if you never said so?"

"Well— you never said so, either."

"Well, next time I will."

_Next time? There's going to be a next time?_ Wrathion thought he wanted to do this _all the time_ now. _Just this, and nothing else_. Except for saving the world, obviously, but _this was also pretty important_.

"Can I get this off?" he asked while tugging at Anduin's blazer, and Anduin was already most of the way out of it; he didn't need to be asked twice. "_You can get anything off that you want_," he said, impatiently breathless, he paused momentarily as they both looked toward the entryway to the little chamber.

"_What if someone walks in?_" he whispered, and Wrathion regarded the small, glowing crystals that lit up that part of the cave; "Maybe if we covered them, it'll get dark, and then if someone walked in, they won't be able to see anything," he said.

He removed his own blazer and carefully proceeded to the glowing mound, then placed it over the crystals; the light in the chamber became very dim. From beneath the cloth the cloudy fluorescent shapes still appeared vaguely visible.

"Yours, too, come on," Wrathion said, he reached for Anduin's blazer, and after they got both to cover the crystals, the room was almost totally dark.

"Right, where are you—" Anduin asked, they laughed sheepishly when they reached for each other; they rolled clumsily unto the cave floor and kissed messily, awkwardly, partly missing, nowhere near careful enough_— but they had nothing to evaluate that against_; they both felt they were having a _brilliant_ time.

Wrathion took Anduin's hand, and in an even more stellar demonstration of tact, he placed it directly at the front of his own trousers; _he believed himself really quite suave_. "I'm hard," he informed him unnecessarily, and Anduin saw absolutely nothing tactless about it; he'd never felt another guy's erection before. He felt daft as his fingers wandered experimentally over the pressed fabric of Wrathion's trousers, and stupidly murmured, "Me, too."

Wrathion ignored that utterly, because currently more pressing at the forefront of his mind (and trousers) was his _own_ arousal; he therefore bypassed anything Anduin might have said, and instead headed directly to the question he'd wanted to ask for what seemed to him a _very significant_ portion of his life.

"_Do you want to take it in your mouth?_"

Anduin _totally didn't_— but the question came so direct that he wasn't sure what to say.

"Oh..." he finally murmured, hoping Wrathion might understand it wasn't something he at all wanted to do— but Wrathion wasn't going to ruin this if it had a chance of _actually happening_.

"I'll do it to you after, if you want," he said, "but could you just do it? For maybe just a few minutes?"

_A few minutes?_ Anduin despaired inwardly_, he hadn't realized he'd have to do it for that long_.

"S— _sure..._" he said with audible hesitance; he'd been about to tell Wrathion _he_ _wouldn't have to do it back_, because the prospect of _having him do _it was terribly embarrassing— but he couldn't help himself.

_He was dead curious, himself, about what it would feel like to get head_.

After that, Wrathion didn't wait any longer; within microseconds he was tugging impatiently at his own trousers, entirely unashamed while he pulled them off his legs, then his briefs after that. He reached toward Anduin to kiss him as a show of gratitude, and partly missed because it was really quite dark. _He kind of wished he could see_.

He lay down propped by his elbows and beckoned Anduin forth, in the darkness their eyes got more accustomed to the dim light that emanated from the covered crystals; _Anduin couldn't believe he was really going to do this_.

He proceeded slowly between Wrathion's long legs; back when they swam together he had tried to get a proper look of his body, and now he could just barely see his silhouette; he could tell he was built lean and tall, his body was practically hairless, the angles and articulations of his bones were formed with elegant grace.

But Wrathion didn't give him the luxury to observe what little he could see; _just in case Anduin forgot what he was meant to be doing_, Wrathion got his hand directly on his member, then smiled and told him _how good it felt_.

Anduin felt somehow trapped, he couldn't exactly move away; there was no choice for him but to directly acknowledge _he had his hand on another guy's cock_.

He became aware Wrathion was quite well-endowed; _he mentally compared and contrasted everything_, and suddenly he wished he could see. His fingers wandered over the smooth surface, _it was so hard and hot_, Wrathion kept his hand on his and was guiding him _to do what he liked_.

"So can you do it?" he asked, and Anduin realized he couldn't keep stalling.

"Yeah," he said, Wrathion watched with almost unbearable anticipation while his friend knelt between his thighs, _he thought he'd never been more curious in his life about what something would feel like_.

_This was it._

_He was finally going to get head. _

Very tentatively, Anduin took the tip of his cock in his mouth; at that, Wrathion stilled utterly. He observed in the darkness, breath suspended, and brushed back Anduin's hair now that he could very vaguely make out his outline; for some moments he said nothing, as not to deter him, but eventually began giving breathless little instructions on what he ought to do.

_It was fucking brilliant. It was, hands down, the single best thing Wrathion had ever felt. _

When Anduin had been informed of this, he was quite surprised; after all the instructions, he'd been certain he'd been doing it dreadfully wrong, and now hearing it was actually _good_ was absolutely flattering.

"Really?" he asked, and Wrathion's hand came in his hair; "_Don't stop_," he said, and Anduin wondered how much longer he'd have to do it; after some time, he asked, "What about how you said you'd do it to me?"

"I will, definitely— just— go on a bit longer?"

"How much longer?"

"I don't know... five minutes?"

"_Five minutes!_"

"Okay, okay. _Two_ minutes."

"Okay, but then you have to do it to me."

"Fine, just— _just keep going_."

XXX

Out the corner of his eye, Aethas observed that Jaina was headed in the direction of the chamber where Anduin and Wrathion had gone; he'd passed by that bend in the corridor earlier and caught just enough of their conversation to know it was something that ought not be interrupted, and by _Aunt_ Jaina in particular. He made his way toward her briskly, and with an elegant turn of the wrist got his hand on hers.

He said her name softly, and then cleverly prompted her to turn the other way; "Would it be all right to have a word about what happened before?"

His touch had been so gentle she didn't startle on feeling his hand, she turned to him in a bout of surprise.

When she'd fully recognized what he'd asked, she nodded almost eagerly; "_Yes_," she said, "I should very much like to have a word."

He could tell by the way she regarded him that she was really quite concerned, he could imagine how discontent she must have felt after Malygos' blatant accusations.

He walked with her out of the cavern entirely, to the frozen grounds outside, where late afternoon had now given way to twilight; the orange rays of the setting sun glittered through the frosted trees, they painted the curving mounds of snow in gold and yellow. Their boots sounded low and crisp on the wintery earth, and Kael'thas thought that for so many years, he had dreamt of taking a walk with Jaina, just like this.

_I could walk with you all day_, he thought, but the day was almost over.

"Be honest with me, Kael'thas," she said, and he thought nothing ever touched his heart like hearing her speak his real name; he would have liked to tell her, _Call me Kael_. "Are you planning something sinister? Is it true, what Malygos said?"

She stopped and turned to him directly, and he felt like he was somehow in trouble, like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar; _he'd have loved to kiss her just then, if it were the sort of lifetime where such a thing were possible_.

She seemed like she was fighting back her temper, like she was _really trying _not to get mad; "Anduin seems to think your motives are _pure_, and he's not a stupid kid; but I'm not sure he has any real basis to think so— he _is_ still a kid, after all. Well— he is, to me." She raised her eyes to Kael'thas and sighed. "And you're just a kid, too, aren't you— _for an elf—_"

The sunlight glittered from just behind him, it illuminated his hair in a soft haze; he regarded her sweetly and smiled. "I promise, Jaina; I won't lie to you." Very gently, he slid the back of his hand against her cheek and brushed his fingers sadly through a strand of her hair. "_Maybe you'll decide to trust me_."

"Stop with the drama," she deadpanned, "Are you still allied with Kil'jaeden? Is that why you want to go to the Well?"

"_Allied with Kil'jaeden_, no," he said, "But is there really any way to convince you I'm not _up to something sinister_— now that Malygos had made such a show of my personal matters?"

"Your _personal matters_?"

"It's not important," he replied, "whatever he said, there's no way he could understand— but you wouldn't believe me if I said I mean no harm, would you?"

"I _want_ to believe you," she said, "but—"

"But you _just can't trust me_, after everything that happened before."

"Kael'thas," she said gently, she regarded him like she was _trying to make him see reason_; "you've not done much to appear trustworthy." Her words were laden not in accusation or malice, but came instead as simple fact; "You say you _mean nothing sinister_, but you haven't explained what purpose you supposedly have; even now, you still don't reveal your true form, you don't expect me to trust you based on _affection and niceties_—"

At that, Kael laughed softly; his eyes fixed on the distant mouth of the cave, now apparent far off that they'd walked for a while. Their footsteps tracked through the snow in a graying trail, at the sides of the road grasses trembled in the light evening breeze.

He smiled at her fondly and brought one finger to his lips, then whispered, "_Keep this a secret, from one mage to another_."

_One Kirin Tor mage to another_, he would have liked to say.

His hands appeared large and elegant when he brought then to his chest, his eyes fluttered shut as he proceeded to mouth some silent incantation; Jaina observed with her brow furrowed as low beams of light shimmered in-between his fingers, they brightened gradually until they were nearly blinding, and for some moments she could vaguely make out the outline of a golden phoenix bird before the incandescent beams washed over Kael entirely.

When the light glittered slowly away, he appeared at first entirely covered in white; then, his features materialized slowly, the colors set in until his robes were a very vivid red.

His appearance was familiar and nostalgic, _but so many years had passed since last she'd set eyes on him_; now he was stood there like nothing had changed, in his royal garments and all.

Jaina chuckled, there was something threatening forth at the back of her throat, and she deliberately forced it back, stupidly sentimental; "It really is you," she laughed, or meant to, but despite herself she was just a little tearful.

"_Idiot_," she smiled, but it was an awful, twisted smile she couldn't sustain, why did _something like this _get her emotional...? _Kael'thas was supposed to be dead_.

"_You idiot, all this time, you knowingly had us all fooled_—"

She pushed him back weakly, like she was too mentally exhausted to deal with _what it all meant_; "You made a mockery of the Kirin Tor— you just _came back to your old place in the Council_— and you fooled us all to believe—"

_But there was no real anger behind her words; she understood all too well how wretched his life must have been, that he had resorted to living in secret. _

When she had known him in her younger years, she'd never really bothered with _who he really was_— but she knew now that ever since the invasion of Quel'thalas, he had lived a life colored with tragedy and despair. She bombarded him after that with insults and swears, and they fell on him like the tenderest whispers of love, _it was overwhelming somehow, that she cared to speak those things directly_.

She smacked him weakly on the arm and stumbled forth a few steps in the snow, "If you go to the Well of Eternity, don't think I won't watch you," she said, her voice wavered despite herself; "I'll watch you _really carefully_, and I'll find out what you're up to— and if you try anything, _I'll make you wish you were back at the Violet Hold_—"

At that, his expression brightened warmly, he gave a fond little laugh; _essentially, it meant she had given her approval, that it was all right for him to go_.

"Being personally babysat by Jaina," he said with a soft smile; "_That doesn't sound so bad, does it?_"

She regarded him with something between a grin and a grimace, and swiped at her eyes with complete lack of grace. "How come you still look so fucking _young_ anyway," she muttered, "_you haven't aged a bloody day_."

"Just think, you could have _all this_," he grinned, and posed like he were showcasing himself as _that day's special_.

"Yeah shut up," Jaina smiled; she watched as he finally proceeded to change back to _Aethas_, and something inside her almost wanted him to stop—

_In the moments just before his transformation, she noticed he'd only had one verdant sphere remaining, of the original three_.

XXX

Kairoz caught up with Malygos somewhere down the path leading away from the cave; in one nimble maneuver he got him facing the dry front of a large boulder, he grinned over his shoulder from behind— _it wasn't much different from the way Malygos, himself, had trapped Anduin earlier. _

"You didn't honestly think I'd let you get away," he mouthed, he bit lightly just at the shell of his ear; "_elusive little bastard, aren't you_."

Malygos went very still; he turned his head sideward very slowly, but Kairoz was too clever for this; he got one hand over Malygos' eyes and whispered over his temple, "_Not tonight, sweet darling; your enchanting gaze won't work on me_."

Beneath his palm, he could feel the soft flicker of his eyelashes, the pointed tip of his nose; "_You've always been my favorite, not counting myself, of course—_"

He leaned forth to run his tongue along the white expanse of Malygos' neck, he'd got him to gasp, just a little; "_Don't even try to summon your doubles, you know I can do far worse_."

"I'm not getting out of this one tonight, am I?" Malygos asked, and Kairoz's laughter came low; "_No, little brother, tonight you're in a lot of trouble_."

He got one hand on his wrist and rapidly tugged, but Malygos turned around on his own; "You won't win this, Nozdormu," he said, his voice came quiet and seductive in the small space between them. "_I know why you're doing this, your futile quest for immortality— you can't honestly think you can prevent your own demise—_"

"Can't I?" Kairoz asked, the words ghosted ethereal just at Malygos' lips, already his fingers tugged cleverly upward at his blue robes; he knew Malygos wasn't going to stop him.

"You can't possibly think your future self won't prevent you," the blue aspect said, "he knows you'd bring the world to destruction in your pointless attempt at this infantile dream."

"_We'll see about that_," there came the reply, "_are you jealous, little darling? That this is something even your magic can't produce?_"

Their lips moved only millimeters apart; as he regarded Malygos so closely, Kairoz thought the fine blue blossoms and leaves painted round his eyes seemed to move and glitter slightly, like an animated picture— like they were swaying in some intangible breeze—

"_You naive, pompous fool_," Malygos laughed, "_there is so much you don't know—_"

He closed the small distance between them and hungrily seized Kairoz's mouth; _all around them, the evening winds swept through the trees in slow motion_.

_(On to Chapter 10)  
><em>

XXX

_A/N: I would love to find someone interested in roleplaying Warcraft lore, especially Wrathion/Anduin, though there are a lot of lore characters I like. I've had a very difficult time finding anyone interested in this, as WoW fangirls usually like RPing their OCs (which I'm not interested in doing). It's cool by me if you're not completely versed in the lore, I'm not a die-hard lore person, myself, and it's something you can read about a bit at a time as necessary. If you're over 18 and feel like giving it a go, please message me! _


	10. Chapter 10

Anduin thought he could forgive Wrathion _anything_; he thought for the time being he'd endure any humiliation or emotional torment, _if only he'd kept that up_.

_It was every bit as good as he'd heard_.

_It was like the warmest, wettest kiss he'd ever got_, and he didn't hold back at all from telling him _how much he liked it_. His hands remained forgotten in Wrathion's long hair, he was trying to watch, but it was too bloody dark; _his entire life, he never knew this was what he'd been missing_.

As for Wrathion, he was beginning to understand why Anduin had been eager to finish doing this when he was the one giving _him_ head, it had got dreadfully dull after some time and his lips began to hurt where he'd pressed his teeth on them. He pulled the member out of his mouth long enough to ask, "Can I stop soon?"

"_Yeah—_" Anduin said , somehow short of breath; he nearly pressed Wrathion's head back down. "_Yeah, please don't stop yet— I'm nearly—_"

_His voice came with virginal innocence. _

At that, Wrathion regarded him in the dark with childlike curiosity;

"You're going to come? Already?"

It may have been blunt, but they'd been so far gone in arousal it didn't feel out of place. "Yeah," Anduin said simply, "Just nearly— _so please, just a bit more—_"

His hand actually came on Wrathion's cheek, blindly stroking, it was somehow tender for something so profane; but Wrathion was tired of doing this, he saw nothing endearing about being stroked on the cheek while made to resume this utterly dull task. _At least he's nearly finished_, he thought, and took him back in his mouth.

After some time, Anduin had got one hand on his on his own cock, his grip was elegant but strong; there was something forceful about it, the way he made Wrathion stroke him while still in his mouth; his head was tilted partway back and his eyes tightly shut, he muttered through clenched teeth,

"_I'm gonna c—_"

It was great relief to Wrathion, who was very glad to be done; he dreaded the conclusion which would follow, but wasn't prepared for it in the end. _The sensation of the hot liquid streaming at the back of his throat was horrific_.

_It tasted even worse than it felt_.

"_Bloody hell, that's terrible_," he muttered, he wiped at his tongue with both hands, but Anduin was lain with absolute contentment, his laugh came breathless and soft.

"Sorry," he said, _his voice came like he was smiling_, his thoughts still were swimming with the rush of what they had done.

"You owe me," Wrathion huffed, "next time, you have to finish me off."

"Yeah, don't worry, I will," came the reply, Anduin was absently fingering his spent cock, he said, "_That was brilliant, that was so nice_—"

By then Wrathion had stopped trying to wipe at his tongue; he was sat at Anduin's side, somehow irritated, because Anduin got to finish while he didn't. _None of this was fair_.

"I'm still going to stop them from making the Dragon Soul," he said, _like he wanted some way to get back at him_.

The words caught Anduin off guard, he slowly sat up, too out of sorts for this. "_What?_" he asked, "_Wh— you can't just—_"

"And I'm not okay with how you supported all that—"

"_Supported all—_ _are we really on about this again now_— Wrathion, they're not going to _make it straight away_ anyway— they want to test my abilities, and, I mean— who knows— what if I can't even do it— then they won't make the Dragon Soul—"

"That's too risky, it shouldn't even _get_ to that point— anyway, I'm getting dressed."

Anduin watched in quiet discontentment while Wrathion tugged his blazer off the dimly-glowing crystal mound and then held it up like he was trying to figure out whose it was— _he wondered why he was suddenly cold toward him again_.

Wrathion tossed the blazer toward him, and Anduin silently began putting it on, confused about what he had done to make him upset— but now Wrathion was just back to talking about other things, _like they hadn't just done all that intimate stuff_.

"If we hurry, we can have a word with them before they leave," Wrathion said, now that the crystals were uncovered, the fluorescent glow returned to that part of the cave; it occurred to Anduin that he was on about the dragon aspects, like maybe he wanted to speak with Alexstrasza personally, about the dangers of the Dragon Soul.

"Well, wait up," he said, _he wondered why it felt like he was being left out again_.

XXX

The princes saw on their return to the main hall that Neltharion was no longer speaking with Malygos; Anduin noticed the blue aspect was nowhere in sight, and neither were Nozdormu or Kairoz. Neltharion was convening with Alexstrasza and Ysera, while Eranikus and Itharius were uselessly trying to round up their whelps.

"What's that in her mouth?" Itharius asked while holding one of them up; he was trying to get at something between the whelp's jaws, and Eranikus proceeded then to peer inside. Very carefully, he extracted a small, glowing crystal.

"They're eating the crystals now?" he asked; " _Valithria, don't eat that. Where'd you get that?_ Brother, don't let her out of your sight."

Anduin noticed Krasus was stood at the queen's side while she spoke with Neltharion, she was absently stroking his naked shoulder _like she knew he was bored and wanted to go home_; it occurred to Anduin that now that Malygos wasn't there, he could speak with Neltharion about the portal.

_His mind was still swimming with thoughts of what he and Wrathion had done; he felt somehow hurt his friend walked away from it so nonchalantly_.

Now Wrathion was politely waiting for Alexstrasza to be finished with his father, _Anduin could bloody swear Krasus was eyeing him like he knew_, and he tried to get his mind off it; he wondered if the queen's consort would have a go at Wrathion if she'd said it was okay.

_Don't think about that. Wrathion, himself, had said_ _if he knew you'd have let him do that stuff, he wouldn't even have asked Krasus_.

Except now he was acting like they'd done nothing at all.

_Why am I even thinking about that? _Anduin scolded himself mentally; _There's much more important stuff I need to focus on. Who cares what Wrathion does...?_

It felt like ages until finally Alexstrasza and Neltharion finished talking, and finally Anduin could approach the black aspect about the portal he saw in his lair; he found Wrathion's father was actually agreeable and understanding— _but then again, he remembered that Wathion, himself, had been awfully charming and polite up until his betrayal_.

Anduin described to Neltharion what he'd seen, but before Neltharion could reply, Ysera turned from where she'd been listening to the conversation between Alexstrasza and Wrathion; "What's that you say?" she asked with audible interest, she addressed Anduin directly the first time that day.

Anduin was taken a little by surprise; Ysera repeated the question, she asked him to describe the details of the portal exactly.

He began to relay to her what he'd seen, but before he'd even finished Ysera turned to the queen abruptly and nudged her on the arm.

"Sister," she said, "_A word_."

She got her hand on Anduin's shoulder gently and excused herself, then pulled Alexstrasza aside; Anduin regarded them with a mixture of confusion and some annoyance, he didn't like being left out. He could hear them speak in hushed tones, and picked up the words _vision_ and _dream_ and _premonition_.

Wrathion also appeared irritated, he wasn't finished speaking with Alexstrasza, and believed it was of utmost importance that he conveyed his thoughts on the Dragon Soul; ages seemed to have gone by before the sisters returned, Ysera got her hand on Anduin's back and said, "I should like to take you to Ashenvale."

"_No!_" Wrathion huffed, "Do you not see the danger all this will pose to Azeroth...!"

That was— if they intended to bring Anduin there, it meant they hoped to create the Dragon Soul, presumably with his skills to purify it.

Anduin's pulse went fast; _what did this mean about what he saw? Was this what ultimately convinced them to let him go?_

He didn't respond to the bit about Ashenvale, and insisted only on his question from before; "But what did it _mean_?" he asked, "Do you know what that portal was?"

"It wasn't a portal," Ysera said, "It was a vision, or a dream— _maybe there was truth to Nozdormu's words_."

Wrathion stared at Anduin like he'd betrayed him personally; "_What portal?!_" he sputtered.

XXX

"_Ah, well, there you are, beloved_," Murozond said to Kairoz; he had Nozdormu with him and held him in a way that would suggest _captive_, except that Nozdormu remained glued to the spot completely of his own free will.

His eyes were transfixed on Malygos, _and what Kairoz was doing to him_, Murozond grinned knowingly while stood at his side.

"_You miss your little friend, don't you_," he crooned, "_I can see it in your eyes, you want him, too_."

It was something Nozdormu couldn't deny; _he remembered well, there were dirty things they used to do—_

Kairoz had Malygos' robes hitched to his waist, he pressed him to the large boulder and had at him gracelessly from behind, completely without shame; Malygos' long, clawed fingers scraped at the rock for balance, his long hair whipped disheveled with impact, and his gaze remained directly on Nozdormu.

Not in the enchanting, manipulative sort of glance he might have employed, _but something more ancient and primal_; he said to him without words, _come here_.

Behind Malygos' shoulder, Kairoz regarded Nozdormu as well, he beckoned breathlessly to him, then whispered something in Malygos' ear that had him glance directly at Nozdormu; Murozond's black hair batted around him like a veil as he approached, he still had one arm on Nozdormu's back.

"_Go on_," he said, his hand was gentle but insistent on Nozdormu, he pressed him gently forth— _but Nozdormu kissed Malygos entirely on his _own. It was tentative at first, _something ancient he'd visibly missed_, but after that it got him _impatient_.

They had at each other with stifled frustration, Malygos was breathless all the while, _what with Kairoz fucking him like that_; he got his hands weakly round Nozdormu's neck and then held on to him for balance.

_Nozdormu never thought he'd have at him like this again_.

"_He was so sweet, wasn't he_," Murozond whispered at his ear, "_You remember, don't you? The things you used to do—_"

"_Yes—_"

Nozdorm's voice came desperate, the words issued warm in the small space between them_; "By the Titans, I've missed you so bad—_"

Behind Malygos' shoulder, Kairoz's voice came knowing and low; "_You wanna fuck him, too, don't you_," he said to Nozdormu, "_come here, beloved, he really feels very nice inside—_"

_(On to Chapter 11)  
><em>

XXX

_A/N: I would love to find someone interested in roleplaying Warcraft lore, especially Wrathion/Anduin, though there are a lot of lore characters I like. I've had a very difficult time finding anyone interested in this, as WoW fangirls usually like RPing their OCs (which I'm not interested in doing). It's cool by me if you're not completely versed in the lore, I'm not a die-hard lore person, myself, and it's something you can read about a bit at a time as necessary. If you're over 18 and feel like giving it a go, please message me! _


	11. Chapter 11

Queen Azshara threw the best parties in all of Kalimdor. There were spectacular magical special effects, the most fabulous contemporary fashions, famous and talented bands from all across the continent; the music would echo late into the night, with light shows of silver and gold washing over the courtyard from the palace balcony, they reflected in the glittering waters of the Well of Eternity below.

She had personally selected the most handsome of her Kaldorei men to serve as dancers, _and not only the highborne—_ she was accepting of any caste, _so long as the guys were hot_.

Everyone was invited. The palace gardens were utterly packed, her people would travel from far and wide to make the occasion, _it was never something to miss_; her chefs consistently prepared a wide array of exquisite delicacies, there were prizes and drinks and gifts—

The following days, there would be articles and pictures all over the Zin-Azshari Tribune and the Suramar Gazette about what Azshara wore, and which celebrities had been there.

The queen, herself, felt most at ease in the company of her adoring masses.

"Hey, looking good, Kur'talos! Marinda, you guys having a good time?"

She'd wander merrily through the crowd, followed by her _homegirl_, Lady Vashj, they'd cheer shamelessly at the band and the dancers; _she never had enough coins for them_.

_All the while she'd really only be looking for one thing_.

"Look there," Vashj leaned in to whisper at her ear, "_there's Malfurion_."

"Where?" Azshara stood at attention; _if Malfurion was there, that meant he'd probably brought along his brother_.

"_Don't look now_," Vashj whispered back, "_just act like you're talking to me_."

They pretended to dance along with everyone else, and all the while Azshara felt very compelled to turn her head and look. "_Is he there?_" she asked, "_Illidan?_"

Vashj attempted as discreetly as possible to gaze in that direction; "I don't see him," she said, "It's just Malfurion, he's talking to some guys."

Back then, the Stormrage twins looked almost exactly alike; their hair color was the only way to really tell them apart, _but Azshara liked Illidan_.

"Really, he's hotter," she'd explain helpfully to Vashj, "_I don't know, he just is_."

_He wasn't even highborne, but his fierce command of magic was a thing to watch; he was like a wild, reckless animal who knew no limits and could not be tamed_.

Azshara had whispered to Vashj, _I bet he's a good fuck_.

At the front of the garden was a lavishly decorated stage for the musicians and singers, there were a number of different bands, including Zin-Azshari's very own group, _Refreshment Table_; the highborne cheered louder than everyone when their home band took to the stage, led by their very own celebrated harpist, Dath'remar Sunstrider.

He was exotically beautiful, with unique auburn hair which gleamed with streaks of gold; _completely natural_, he'd told _Mana Gem_ magazine, it had been his trademark on stage.

"_Ooh, girl_," Vashj whispered discreetly to Azshara, "_look at the size of that harp_."

"His fingers can work those strings like _magic_," Azshara replied, their voices were drowned by the fervent shouts and cheers.

XXX

Truly, old Ashenvale was not what Anduin had expected; he wasn't sure _what_ he'd anticipated, really, he reminded himself _this was before magic was banned here_; it was before it had called the attention of the Legion and before it was perceived as a serious threat.

Which was why Wrathion was so rigidly opposed to their purpose here; the Dragon Soul, itself, was an item once sought by Sargeras.

When he thought of Ashenvale, Anduin imagined the peaceful enchanted forests, the curiously glowing shrubs and shimmering fairy lights— but now that they'd arrived, the very earth seemed to pulse with the thrum of loud music, _it was like the Tauren Chieftains played electric harps instead of guitars_; lavish and colorful fireworks were seen exploding high in the heavens.

"_This is Ashenvale...?_" He asked Jaina, who appeared to be just as much in awe.

She could _feel_ the arcane currents in the air; it was like nothing she'd known before, it demanded from her a foreign appetite she never knew she had— _and she was certain it was the Well of Eternity_.

"_You feel it, don't you_," Aethas whispered to her, and Jaina regarded him pensively; he appeared somehow overcome, like already three quarters of him had surrendered, there was desire in his eyes she'd never seen before.

_For him, it must be so much worse_, she thought, _how does he manage to stay composed?_

She wanted to say _she was watching him_, that _he'd best not be getting ideas_— but she felt defeated by the Well's energies, herself, it occurred to her that if Kael'thas really wanted to, he'd have _done something sinister _already; the arcane winds transparent in the air all around were enough to wield power greater than they could in their own time.

Out the corner of his eye, Anduin regarded Wrathion; he felt terribly guilty somehow, aware how much his friend was opposed to this journey; he was almost compelled to apologize, but held his tongue, _because he could not deny he wanted very much to come here_.

"This is Zin-Azshari, little he-priest," Ysera explained to Anduin, "Queen Azshara's palace is just at the edge of the Well." She had told him before that she wanted to take him to visit the Sisterhood of Elune, where his talents may be examined by High Priestess Dejahna.

Anduin nodded, his eyes fixed on the magical lights that glimmered far off; "It's very loud," he remarked, and Eranikus explained a big party was held that night.

To Anduin, _Queen Azshara_ was a thing of legends; she was a figure in stories you told little kids, the beautiful and terrible naga queen who lived deep beneath the ocean, possibly a more powerful sorceress than any the world had known.

_But he knew that at one time, long ago, she had been a real person, before the naga came to be— _she had been the queen of the night elves,and it seemed from the looks of things now that _she knew how to have a good time_.

"I think I'm going deaf," he chuckled, "my father would never let me go to a party like this."

Aethas briefly nudged him, "You've really never _lived_, have you?" he asked, and now Jaina smacked his arm with an incredulous laugh. "You idiot! Don't give him ideas!"

Aethas smirked in response, he rubbed at his arm and flashed Jaina a smile; he asked, "Could you do that again?"

Anduin watched without being sure what to make of it; _was it just in his mind, or did those two somehow appear to be on friendly terms?_

As their little group approached a clearing in the forest, the dimensions of the palace stretched before them on full display, a structure breathtaking in its majesty and alight with spectacular flashes of arcane force.

Even Wrathion, in his deep and bitter sulking, came to feel overwhelmed; he stared with just as much awe as the others, the glittering fireworks reflected in the red of his eyes.

"_Such power_," he mouthed, _even he could feel it_.

Aethas was stood in mute silence, undone utterly and emotionally moved; he looked on with breath suspended, _it was even more stunning than Sunfury Spire_, _and countless times more magically powerful_.

When he found his voice, he murmured weakly to Jaina, "_You're babysitting me, right?_"

Jaina regarded him with some uncertainty, but she was clearly amused; "You better believe it, there's no way I'm letting you waltz around this place on your own."

Very slowly, his mouth stretched in a smile. "I was hoping you'd say that," he replied, he got his hand warmly in hers.

"_Come on_," he whispered, "_Let's ditch these guys. I haven't had a good time in years_."

Jaina gave a surprised laugh; "Are you _crazy?_" she whispered back, "I have to stay with Anduin, I can't just let him—"

"_Jaina_," Aethas whispered, "_He's old enough, let him enjoy himself for once._"

"I can't! I have to watch him, Varian would—"

"_Varian was already married at his age. The kid is so stiff, let him have some fun_."

He got one hand on Anduin's shoulder and leaned to convene with him; "I'm taking your aunt for a _stroll at the palace_," he whispered, "That all right?"

"Wait, what?" Anduin laughed, he regarded them both in confusion; they now had Wrathion's attention, too.

Aethas leaned just a bit closer and whispered at Anduin's ear, "_If I were you, I'd ditch these guys, too; go have a good time with your boyfriend_."

"W— wait, _what?_" In a matter of microseconds, Anduin went from zero to _completely red_; his head flipped to Wrathion rapidly, then back to Aethas. "_Woah, wait a second, he's not my— why would you say— why would I want— no, it's not like that—_"

Wrathion regarded them both very dryly, aware without hearing the whispers that this somehow involved him.

"_We aren't here to celebrate, Anduin Wrynn_," he deadpanned, and Anduin stiffly stammered, "_Yeah, I know! That's exactly what I said, I totally wasn't saying we're here to— like—to celebrate— or whatever—_"

The look Aethas was giving him _totally wasn't helping his cause_.

Ysera, apparently, gave her approval, and before Anduin could say much more, Jaina was rapidly calling apologies and warnings to him while Aethas gripped her by the wrist; Anduin watched him trot merrily down the hillside with her in his grasp, _like a little boy on the last day of lessons_.

_(On to Chapter 12)  
><em>

XXX

_A/N: I would love to find someone interested in roleplaying Warcraft lore, especially Wrathion/Anduin, though there are a lot of lore characters I like. I've had a very difficult time finding anyone interested in this, as WoW fangirls usually like RPing their OCs (which I'm not interested in doing). It's cool by me if you're not completely versed in the lore, I'm not a die-hard lore person, myself, and it's something you can read about a bit at a time as necessary. If you're over 18 and feel like giving it a go, please message me! _


	12. Chapter 12

After Jaina and Aethas took off, Anduin remained completely red in the face, he walked stiffly beside the others without really paying attention to anything; he kept thinking of what Aethas had said.

_Boyfriend. _

He'd never had a boyfriend or girlfriend before; it was a sort of untouchable holy grail he'd only ever known in dreams, and which got him curiously elated when he thought it might be true. _Is Wrathion my boyfriend? Do you become boyfriends when you do sexual stuff? _

_What about what he said that time he kissed me, when he was all, 'you've always known the place you have in my heart'?_

Funny how something like that seemed to take the same level of significance as their mission, he regarded Wrathion tentatively out the corner of his eye as to assess to what extent he seemed to act _boyfriendy_, on a scale from one to ten.

Somewhere at the back of his mind, he remembered his friend had said _they hadn't come there to celebrate_, but he couldn't help thinking of how Aethas said _they ought to go and have a good time_; and if they did— if they went and had a good time, that was— _would it be a date?_

Either way, he couldn't very well tell him directly _he_ _wanted to go and have fun at the party_, not after he'd declared with such conviction_ he totally wasn't saying they had come to celebrate_; but maybe he could reason with him that _since they were already there, it would be weird not to act like normal party-goers..._

But as he got a subtle look of him, it seemed the matter was hopeless; Wrathion appeared seven different kinds of pissed off, he'd probably breathe fire at him if he'd so much as asked.

XXX

On their descent down the hill, Jaina was awkwardly holding her staff, she tried not to skid down the grassy cline as Aethas pulled her along; "Wait...! Kael'thas, I can't run this fast—"

His face was flushed with excitement, _he really still was a little kid_; "Sorry, sorry," he said breathlessly, he slowed down to a trot and tugged her by the wrist. _Some part of him hoped she would trip so he could catch her_— but, of course, she wasn't so clumsy.

They were stood in a small thicket of trees, about halfway to the palace; "You all right?" Aethas asked, he watched her tug at the fabric of her robes, which had got a bit disheveled on the run.

"Can't we just walk, I know you're excited—"

"Yeah, sure," he said quickly, "Walking's good."

He wanted to ask her, _Remember the parties at Dalaran?_ But those parties were _nothing_ like this; _he'd never seen such impeccable style_. _Whoever designed this place clearly hadn't survived to more modern times_.

Jaina gazed back to the way they had come, their group appeared to meander slowly down the hill; she spotted Anduin and wondered if it was really okay to leave him like this. Her attention was diverted when Aethas said her name, he grinned mischievously and said, "_I can take my true form, if you want_."

"What?"

"You know," he said, "Like the other day; it's not like anyone would recognize me."

Jaina was going to ask, _what about Ysera? —_ But then she remembered that this was _Ysera of ten thousand years ago_; she wouldn't know who Kael'thas was, and Jaina had already told Anduin. _But Kael didn't know that she had_, did he not mind? Was it because Anduin supported him during the meeting...?

It occurred to her, though, that Kael _wanted_ to take his true form; he was tired of hiding, and missed being the beloved elven prince; she thought of how he'd said, _I haven't had a good time in years_.

"All right," she said, "Yeah, okay."

Up still at the hilltop, Wrathion squinted when there came a low shimmer of light from a thicket of trees somewhere beneath, he paused and got one hand on Anduin's shoulder; "What's that, down there?" he asked, "What are they doing?"

Anduin had seen it, too, but he wasn't terribly alarmed; he'd grown up around Jaina and her Kirin Tor colleagues, and merely replied, "I don't know, probably mage stuff."

_He was very aware of Wrathion's hand on his shoulder_.

_This is dumb_, he thought, _we're going to the palace either way; it wouldn't be that weird if I asked to hang out with Wrathion alone, instead of with the green dragons. _

But he couldn't bring himself to ask, especially with his friend in such a terrible mood; _great_, he sulked inwardly, _most people there are probably on dates, but we're going there with like Ysera's whole family and a bunch of her babies_.

XXX

"I don't think Illidan's here," Azshara said to Vashj with audible disappointment; they were sat by the large fountain in the courtyard with some drinks, Azshara was absently inspecting her nails. "I haven't seen him all night, usually wouldn't he be hanging out with Malfurion?"

A small group of elves passed by, they cheered drunkenly at Azshara and called out about _what an amazing party it was_.

"Woohoo!" She cheered back, "All right, glad you guys are having a good time!" But she slumped back when she turned to Vashj; "That sucks if he didn't even come," she said, "I wore this dress especially— by the way, do you like this dress? Do you think it looks dumb, the way the sleeves are all like this—"

"No, the dress is totally cute," Vashj reassured her, "I like the way the sleeves go."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, for sure... well, listen, I don't know, maybe he's just not here yet, want me to go ask Malfurion?"

"_No!_ No, don't ask him, _then he'll know I like Illidan_."

"You could always just spell him or something," Vashj offered, and Azshara sighed, "Yeah, I know... I bet I'll end up having to do that, but I kinda wanted— you know, for him to like me on his own..."

"Yeah, I get that," Vashj said.

Somewhere in the background, Dath'remar was _tearing it up_ on the harp, he had his shirt off and was swinging it around with one hand before letting it fly into the crowd; cheers echoed through the courtyard as people jumped up to catch it, and Azshara said, "_He's also cute_."

"_Hot_ is more like it," Vashj said; she looked over her shoulder at the stage somewhere off. "_Sunstrider, that one's pretty wild_."

"You think that's really his natural hair color?"

"No way, probably spelled it or something."

"You think Illidan's hair color is natural? Maybe he spelled it, too, so he wouldn't look exactly like Malfurion."

Vashj considered; "You know, I never thought about that. I guess you can't just _go up to him and ask_, can you?"

"Yeah, he'd probably think I'm weird."

XXX

To Kael'thas, the hike to the palace was pure enjoyment; he and Jaina waded through the tall grass, they cleared shoots aside with their hands and wands, Kael was visibly pleased to _be himself again_. On their approach, the music grew louder, he could make out the unmistakable sound of a harp, _but like none he'd heard before_; it was something like an electric or enchanted sort of harp, and the tone of the music, itself, was foreign.

"By the Sun," he said to Jaina, "Do you know how many hours a day my father used to make me practice the harp?"

"You play the harp?" Jaina asked, and Kael'thas regarded her incredulously; "_I played the bloody harp at Dalaran! I was in the court of musicians—_"

"Okay, okay, sorry!" Jaina squirmed, "I guess I didn't know—"

"Pff," Kael'thas huffed, "I can't believe you didn't know— I thought everyone knew—"

_And I'm really good at it, _too, he thought, _but of course she hadn't paid attention; she was probably focused on whatever stupid thing Arthas was doing_.

"I'm totally better than this guy, or— whoever's playing right now—"

"Okay, sorry, I get it..."

When he thought of it, though, he actually wasn't quite sure if he was better than whoever was playing; while it was true Kael'thas really was well-practiced in all manner of musical instruments, the sort of harp playing now was so completely different from any he'd known that he was uncertain what to make of it.

The closer they approached, the louder the music became, and so had the hum of discordant chatter; there were cheers and mirthful shouts, the lights became warmer and brighter as the palace gardens came into view.

"The Well of Eternity must be just at the back," Kael'thas said, there was in his voice unmistakable longing; Jaina had to fight her own urge to go there, she tugged her hand away from his and said, "We're not going to the Well."

Kael'thas paused and stared at her with vast exasperation. "We're not _going _there? Are you kidding? We've come this whole way and we're not _going to see it?_"

"I thought I told you!"

"Sheesh, Jaina, I just wanna have a look, what do you think I'm gonna do?"

"_I don't know!_"

"What, you think I'm gonna— like— _summon Kil'jaeden_— like I can't go there without _blowing up the whole world_—"

"Could you _blame_ me? What did you think I'm watching you for?"

"Can you _honestly_ say you're not even a _little_ bit curious?"

Jaina rubbed hard at her eyes; "I thought you said you wanted to come here to have _fun_."

"I _do_—"

"Then what's all this talk about the Well of Eternity?"

"Fine. Know what? We'll go, but I won't get close to it."

"Maybe later."

"Really?"

"No."

"_Jaina!_"

"Did you learn to _whine_ like this from Anduin? _We'll go later, if you're good_."

"_Fine_."

On their approach up the walkway, the palace was revealed with shimmering magical lights painting colors along its exterior; the immaculate gardens glittered with bulbs and silvery moons, there were lights strung in chains between the treetops, and lanterns suspended midair.

Signs led the way to the courtyard proper, where now the music was loud enough its pulse reverberated through the earth; on looking up Jaina could see there were people everywhere, they crowded the glamorous stairs and ramps, where lights and lanterns decorated the treetops.

Enchanted butterflies flickered up from the spiraling steps, there were male dancers on several raised platforms, whose costumes shimmered magically.

"Think we'll get to see the queen?" Kael'thas asked, there were so many people there he wondered if they'd recognize her at all.

As they passed through the garden, the night elves stared from all around; _Dragons_, they said to each other, because before there were blood elves or humans, only dragons ever took on forms like theirs.

Jaina nudged Kael'thas, "_They think we're dragons, did you hear that?_"

"Dragons..." Kael laughed, "That's the first time someone thought that of me."

_Jaina knew he wouldn't want to disguise their appearance in order to blend in, though, so she didn't ask_.

Small groups of chairs and tables were elegantly arranged in certain locations through the garden, little torches burned aesthetically in their midst and colored lights painted haloes on the earth; far off at the opposite end of the yard was a stage, where masses of people were crowded, they shouted and cheered for the band.

"Well, you have to say you'll dance with me," Kael'thas said, "You have to give me _something_ since we didn't go to the Well."

"I don't know..." Jaina said, because she could see where this was going: he was testing his boundaries, and it was her place to stop him when he'd got too _romantic_.

"Come on, I'm very skilled on my feet, you'll be surprised."

"I'm sure you are, don't all princes have to learn that stuff—"

"Yeah, so what's the problem? _You afraid you'll fall for me?_"

Jaina laughed; "What, because you can dance?"

"Yeah, because I can dance."

"All right— _fine_. But no weird... I don't know... _no weird touching_."

"_No weird touching?_" He snickered, "So just— _un-weird touching_."

"_No touching!_"

"Wh— _you have to have some touching if you're gonna dance—_"

"_You know what kind of touching I mean_."

Kael'thas rolled his eyes and sighed theatrically, his hand came on hers with such discreet grace she was caught off guard when he easily twirled her into his arms.

Jaina gasped; she chuckled in surprise and felt somehow clumsy, and Kael _vastly_ enjoyed that; "See?" he asked with practiced elegance, "_You're falling for me already_."

"Kael'thas—" Jaina started, but she had to look down at her feet to see how he arranged her, she wasn't exactly sure how to move or what to do; _Kael was stupidly pleased, for once, there was something he could do that she couldn't, who looked dumb now...?_

He could see her sort of stumble, she appeared awkward and uncertain, _and it was utterly endearing_; he hoped so much that he was impressing her.

There was music and chatter and shouts all round, and talk in a form of Darnassian that was difficult to understand when people spoke too fast; it didn't matter that Jaina's hair had gone completely white, that by now she appeared nearly old enough to be his mother— _Kael couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy_.

"_Don't look at me like that_," Jaina said, _he could've sworn he'd seen her flush_; "Like what?" he asked bemusedly, "Like I wanna kiss you so badly it hurts?"

At that, her smile faded; she looked sadly aside and said, "_Stop that_. This isn't fair, I told you _I'm with Kalec_."

He felt bad for what he'd said; he'd not acknowledged it to himself, _but it was emotionally manipulative_; still, _he couldn't help himself_, he had loved her for so many years—

"Can't you just have us both?" he asked with a grin, "I wouldn't mind, I like boys, too."

It got her to smile; "You have it all figured out, don't you?" she asked.

"You did say we're not_ meant to compete_."

"I could start a small harem."

"See, _that's the spirit_."

At the song's conclusion, the crowd burst into whistles and cheers, Kael and Jaina turned their heads to regard the stage some distance off; there was some night elf stood with his shirt off and the largest harp Kael had ever seen, he had one fist raised and shouted, "_For Azshara...!_"

At that, the cheers grew even louder; "_For Azshara...!_" the crowds shouted back.

_Kael'thas remembered a time when he, too, had been this well-loved by his people_.

"Look," Jaina said while pointing to the stage, "Is that the queen?"

Kael'thas paused somewhere mid-turn; he raised his eyes to the crowded platform, where a night elf woman was making her way up the stage steps. _She was wearing the most stylish dress Kael had ever seen_, everything about her outfit was flawless, from the awesome way her hair was done down to her really cute shoes.

She trotted up energetically and got her arms around the harpist, then turned back to the audience. "_Refreshment Table!_" She called the band's name, and the crowd clapped enthusiastically and cheered; there were a few more _For Azshara!_ cries, which had her beam and shout back, "_Yay! For me!_"

She was relatable and funny, and still had one arm around the harpist when she spoke."Don't go anywhere," she called to the crowd, "there's a contest coming up with some amazing prizes, let's hear it for Dath'remar Sunstrider, I'm totally not grabbing his ass right now!"

At that, the harpist jumped a bit, but he turned back to the audience and cheered back at them.

Both Jaina and Kael'thas froze; Kael murmured, "_You have got to be kidding me..._"

"That's your—" Jaina said;

"_My great, great grandfather_," Kael'thas croaked.

"The guy who founded Quel'thalas?"

"That's the one..."

"And made the Sunwell?"

After that, Kael'thas had no words left; he wasn't sure what to make of any of it.

While she was stood on stage, Azshara tried scanning the crowd, but the lights were so bright she couldn't see anything; she was beginning to think Illidan really _hadn't _come, and despite her cheerful exterior, she started to feel quite depressed.

After the fact, she had actually approached Malfurion and his friends, and even though she didn't want to _look desperate_, the torment of _not knowing_ had become unbearable; she grinned as though _she and Malfurion were friends_ and asked directly, "Hey, is Illidan with you guys?"

XXX

Anduin by now was about as sulky as Wrathion; they were sat with Ysera and her consorts on the upper balcony, where Itharius had said _it was safer for little whelps, away from the huge crowds_.

_It was totally lame_.

They didn't even get to have alcoholic drinks, they were served moonberry juice like a couple of _babies_, Eranikus had a whelp on his lap and was singing some nursery song to him in draconic.

Anduin sat moodily with his juice, he thought that _even aunt Jaina got to have fun, and she was like a million years old_; it wasn't fair, he thought of what Aethas had said about how _he'd really never lived_, and now he was certain _he was never going to, either_.

_It was Wrathion's fault, really, for being such a dick_; Anduin glared at him petulantly, until Wrathion caught his gaze— at which point Anduin rapidly looked away.

_For all his anger, he'd become too shy of him to tell him outright_.

_(On to Chapter 13)  
><em>

XXX

_A/N: I would love to find someone interested in roleplaying Warcraft lore, especially Wrathion/Anduin, though there are a lot of lore characters I like. I've had a very difficult time finding anyone interested in this, as WoW fangirls usually like RPing their OCs (which I'm not interested in doing). It's cool by me if you're not completely versed in the lore, I'm not a die-hard lore person, myself, and it's something you can read about a bit at a time as necessary. If you're over 18 and feel like giving it a go, please message me! _


	13. Chapter 13

_This is dumb_, Anduin thought; _if you don't make a move, you'll be drinking juice with a bunch of babies for the rest of your life_.

He had tried uselessly to will himself into courage, to no avail; for some reason, the prospect of _asking Wrathion to go with him_ was more daunting than that time he'd stood up to Garrosh all those years ago.

_Granted, that time he'd been overcome by adrenaline_, but it certainly ought to have been more terrifying than this— Anduin cleared his throat and turned bravely to Wrathion.

"Ah—" he said, and Wrathion regarded him moodily enough he retreated again after that; "_Nothing_," he stammered, "Just— I was wondering— if you could pass me— the sugar—"

"_The sugar?!_" Wrathion replied, and Anduin discovered at that moment it was actually humanly possible to feel even _more_ stupid than he had a few seconds before.

"Yeah, I— yeah."

Wrathion slid the sugar toward him in the most silently venomous way that sugar could be slid, and Anduin muttered some thanks before toying with the container in his hands.

_Great_, he thought, _I have no idea what to do with this now_.

Some seats away, Ysera became aware that possibly those two were _bored_, and it made no sense to her, _because she'd been certain she was a cool mom_— but maybe they were just _at that age_, and maybe they wanted to hang out away from moms, cool or not.

"Look there, Eranikus," she said matter-of-factly, "Well, isn't that a group of priestesses there? Maybe Anduin would like to go and introduce himself."

_It was possibly the least cool thing a mom could have said_, considering Wrathion probably _hated _Anduin _super badly_ at that moment for wanting to employ his priestly talents in service of the Dragon Soul.

_By the Light_, Anduin thought, _why doesn't the earth just open up and swallow me whole?_

But before the earth could do so, Wrathion turned to him mockingly and said, "Oh, yes, _Anduin_, why _don't you_ go and _introduce_ yourself to the priestesses?"

_Truth be told, Anduin was actually quite compelled to do so; the ancient priestesses of Elune were fascinating to him_.

_But he couldn't say that with Wrathion like right there_.

On hearing Wrathion's comment, Ysera mentally patted herself on the back for a job well done, she grinned contentedly at the princes and held out her hand; in a shimmer of green light, a small blossom appeared in her palm and she beckoned to Anduin.

"Take this as a gift to the priestesses from me, and say I had sent you."

For a moment, both Anduin and Wrathion leaned over to look with interest; Wrathion actually asked, "What is it?"

"It's a blossom of the dream," she said, "They'll know when they see it."

"I won't— like— fall asleep if I touch it, would I?" Anduin asked, and Ysera shook her head; "No, it's fine; it feels just like a regular flower."

Anduin leaned forth to pick the thing up, and though it glimmered magically in his hand, it really did feel like just a regular flower.

"Wrathion, why don't you go with him?" Ysera asked, _like she was totally clueless_— _Anduin was so freaking embarrassed_— but the end result was that Wrathion _did_ go with him, and Anduin found himself lightheadedly descending the stairwell at his side.

After they had left, Ysera appeared for some moments deep in thought; she turned to Itharius, then Eranikus, and asked, "I'm a cool mom, right?"

XXX

"Kael'thas, what the hell?"

Jaina whispered hesitantly while Kael led her discreetly to the backstage area; "We'll get in trouble, we're not supposed to be here."

"Yeah, I know," he said, "but I wanna check out that harp."

"_You can't just waltz up there and check out the harp_."

"_Dath'remar is my ancestor, I wanna know why I've never seen a harp like that_."

"Um, I don't know, maybe because _he didn't take enormous musical instruments with him across the ocean?_"

"Yeah, there is that." He turned back to Jaina with a mischievous grin; "_But I still wanna see it_."

"_Why do you keep doing these things?_"

"I have a right to that harp! I'm the last in my lineage!"

"_Not right now you're not! You don't even look like him, for all he knows, you're a dragon—_"

"I hear you're into dragons."

She had to turn her head aside so he wouldn't see her snicker.

Jaina walked behind Kael uncertainly, like she knew they'd get into trouble any minute — she had to admit, though, there was a certain thrill to this, she'd be lying if she'd said she didn't enjoy it at all. The curtain was drawn shut at that moment while stagehands were busy arranging instruments for the next act, and some of the previous act's instruments were set aside at the back; Kael's face came alight when he spotted the harp Dath'remar had played.

It was unmistakable in its dimensions, _it called to him as with its own sort of magic_; Kael'thas dragged Jaina toward it with absolute satisfaction.

"_Look at this_," he mouthed, and Jaina glanced around to see if anyone was coming; "I don't think we should touch it..." she said, _but by then she knew there was no point_; she knew he would touch it all over, and wondered how he planned to get out of it when inevitably they'd be discovered.

She stood uselessly with arms crossed while Kael'thas paced slowly round the harp, he saw beauty in it to which she was consciously blind; his hand caressed it affectionately and he rose on tiptoe in order to tune the strings, while his long hair waved and rippled down his back. _It was very endearing somehow_.

"Oh... oh no..." Jaina murmured, "_You're not honestly going to play it._"

"I'm going to play it."

"_Kael'thas— everyone will fucking hear you_."

Kael sat himself on the bench with aristocratic grace and got his hands up midair; he regarded Jaina with a cheeky smile and said, "_Then they're in for a treat_."

XXX

Azshara was a proper mess.

She was sat with Vashj in a distant corner by the Well, where the lights weren't terribly bright and no one could see the way her face paints had run; "Hey, it's all right..." Vashj tried to console her, but it was no use.

"_He said Illidan hadn't even checked the arcane message I'd sent him_," she sobbed theatrically into her designer limited edition mooncloth handkerchief," and that he didn't even know where he was tonight..."

"Listen, Azshara..." Vashj said as she took her hands, "You can't cry like this, you have like a whole party to manage..."

"_I know..._" Azshara cried, "I just need— like— a few minutes— "

"Don't let this bug you, if worst comes to worst, you can always just spell him to do your bidding..."

"I know..." Azshara cried some more, _"what's wrong with me, right? I mean, that's what my mom would have done..._"

"That's what everyone does... I mean, girl, you were born with these gifts for a reason, use your magic..."

"I know..."

She swiped gracelessly at her eyes and then observed the way the colors ran on her wrist; "_Yeuch_," she said, part-laughing and part-crying; "I just totally smeared my markings."

"It's cool, give me a sec—"

Vashj regarded the queen's face for a moment and then cast a subtle spell to redo the markings; "There, I think that's how you had it; it was like an ivy leaf right there, and some stars—"

"Yeah, did you make three stars? I had a star going like up here—"

She leaned over the banister to gaze into the waters of the Well, but her reflection was too blurry to see anything.

"Yeah, three stars, like, here—" Vashj indicated the location on her own face.

"Okay, cool, cool..." Azshara sniffled and tried to pull herself back together; "Thank you, you totally get me..." She reached absently to dab at her face, but Vashj held her back.

"Don't, you'll mess it up again," she warned, and Azshara nodded; "Yeah, sorry."

"Anyway," Vashj said, "you have to get back to the courtyard, a queen can't cry like some little man."

"Yeah, don't worry," Azshara said, "I'm cool, I don't look like I've been crying, do I? I don't have, like, snot all over the place—"

"No, you look fine— now go, you only have like ten minutes before you were gonna do that contest."

XXX

_This is it_, Anduin thought, _you're technically on a date_. Or was it a date? _I can't just subtly try to hold his hand, he'd probably bite my head off_; _but fuck, I have to say something...!_

"So lame of Ysera, right?" he asked, _though he was secretly grateful_; "Like I wanna— _introduce_ myself to some _priestesses_..."

Wrathion regarded him dryly; "_Don't_ you want to introduce yourself to some priestesses?"

"Oh! Pff!_ No_. No, why would I— not like I wasn't going to meet them tomorrow anyway—"

"You're not a particularly convincing liar," Wrathion said.

"I'm not _lying_."

Anduin had been so deeply consumed in his conversation with Wrathion he hadn't realized they'd got all the way down the steps— and now that he was stood there, the entire scene was almost too much to take in.

He remained where he was for some moments, the glittering enchanted lights reflecting in his eyes; it occurred to him _it was the perfect setting for a date—_ _if they actually were on one_.

"Let's just get this over with," Wrathion muttered, "Where were those priestesses? _Who can find anything in this crowded place?_"

XXX

Even the heavy arcane energies of Zin-Azshari weren't impregnable to the innocent light of the moon; Elune's servitors paced barefoot through the grass in a pale and glowing procession, like nothing could touch the purity of their purpose. Laurna Morninglight walked beside Dentaria Silverglade and Tyrande Whisperwind, they paused curiously on their journey at a somber and penetrating sound, something mournfully tender they'd not expected to hear at the courtyard of Azshara's palace.

"Sisters," Tyrande said, "_Listen, the Song of Elune_."

It was the purest and most innocent sort of heartache, which bled through the night with unspoken anguish they'd not known before.

At the priestesses' side, even Illidan stilled; _there was a music box Tyrande had gifted him which played this song_.

She must not have remembered at all, but he'd handled it with greater reverence than he'd show any deity.

Azshara paused halfway on her journey back to the stage; she got one hand on Vashj's wrist and murmured, "_I can feel it_; _I can feel his magic, he's here_."

Beside Kael'thas, Jaina was stood with her arms crossed; there was in her something brittle and fragile which threatened to break, she was far past the point of trying to stop him. There was such deep and rich, overwhelming_ torment _his fingers coaxed from the strings, that she understood _she never knew him at all—_ and now that she'd begun to, she foresaw a world of pain too scathing to bear.

Then, without preamble, his hands stopped mid-note; his gaze turned distantly from the harp with raw and longing agony, to where he was almost unrecognizable.

The sound reverberated gradually until it decayed out of audible range, and Kael mouthed only the single word,

_Master_—

_(On to Chapter 14)  
><em>

XXX

_A/N: I would love to find someone interested in roleplaying Warcraft lore, especially Wrathion/Anduin, though there are a lot of lore characters I like. I've had a very difficult time finding anyone interested in this, as WoW fangirls usually like RPing their OCs (which I'm not interested in doing). It's cool by me if you're not completely versed in the lore, I'm not a die-hard lore person, myself, and it's something you can read about a bit at a time as necessary. If you're over 18 and feel like giving it a go, please message me! _


	14. Chapter 14

There was in Jaina compassion enough that she didn't seize Kael straight away; she'd been prepared for this sort of thing, at her age she knew that even the best of intentions could lead down a dangerous path. _Here, _she understood,_ was a purpose borne of some deep and penetrating ache._

This time, Kael didn't say stuff like _let's go to the Well_ or _I wanna see the harp_, or _you have to say you'll dance with me_; he removed himself delicately from the bench and began making his way to the exit, speechless like he'd just seen a ghost.

Jaina didn't know what it was exactly that had him _turn on his kingdom_ before, or what had made him ally spontaneously with Kil'jaeden— from the short glimpse she had into who he might have been, she could see it had all left him very broken and lost.

_He really had been a child_, raised sheltered and surrounded by luxury, whose greatest concern had been the academic matters of the Kirin Tor— until one day his days in the sun came abruptly to an end when news from home came of the attack. _In the life of an elf, he may well have been no farther along in maturation than Anduin_, _maybe he still was at the end of adolescence when the weight of the kingdom fell on his shoulders_.

He'd had no knowledge of politics or national leadership, and the humans took full advantage of his naiveté— after the fall of Quel'thalas, unlike Anduin during Varian's absence, Kael had no one older or wiser remaining on whom to fall back. Of those remaining, _his closest advisors were no older than himself_. Was that how it was? Jaina wondered, _had he really been just a child, left with the charge of a grieving nation...?_

She placed her hand on his wrist very gently, and got him to look at her; "Tell me," she asked, "What are you going to do?"

He regarded her somberly, like he was trying to find words to make her understand; "Is it the Well of Eternity?" Jaina asked, "Are you thinking of heading there?"

She wondered if Kil'jaeden was calling to him through the Well, and felt disappointed to think this was really what he'd wanted to come here for; she got her hands on his face to make him pay attention, and said, "I won't be harsh with you the way I was in Dalaran. I'll restrain you the gentlest way I can—"

There was in his eyes a glimmer of fondness, his hands came warmly on hers on his face; "_To think I had lived to hear you offer such beautiful things to me directly_," he said, "_and that I was forced to turn them down_."

She didn't resist when he took one of her hands and kissed her knuckles, there was some consolation in seeing him flirt again; but she understood it would have to come to force, she really would have to bind him against his will. "I'm sorry," she said, there was none of the venom in her that she'd shown at the Violet Hold; the arcane binds she got on him latched instantly into place, _and she thought she'd never seen him so satisfied_.

His eyes went shut and his mouth stretched in a smile that was wholesome and warm, _like sunshine_; he chuckled and said, "Jaina, my— _darling_—"

When his gaze fell on her again, there only was honest affection, "You drive a _very_ hard bargain," he whispered, "_you have no idea—_"

At that, he vanished from within the binds, Jaina cursed to find he'd tricked her, and that he'd actually made his way to the door; he paused there, however, visibly regretful , she could tell he felt _he really had to go_.

"This isn't some game," she said irritably, "you're starting to test my patience."

"No," he replied, "It definitely isn't a game."

But even then, he wasn't _trying_ to be devious or cunning; it really seemed he felt there was something he just _had_ to do.

It made it that much more difficult to hold him back, _she almost wished she hadn't got to know him_; she chased him out of the backstage area and through the gardens, where the spells they cast at each other seemed only slightly out of place amidst the glittering enchantments already flashing all through the yard. Two times she'd just nearly got a hold on him, she was surprised to find he was at least as powerful as she was; _had he been holding back all along?_

Already Jaina had mentally planned what techniques she would use to halt him from approaching the Well, and how she could diminish his magic if he'd got there— _but it occurred to her somewhere during the chase that he wasn't heading to the Well at all_.

He had got about halfway through one of the gardens when he just _stopped_; his attention was visibly transfixed elsewhere, and his only acknowledgment of Jaina's presence came with a casual wave of his hand, to cast a ward around himself against her magic.

_Then he just stood there_, slightly out of breath, his hair all out of sorts as he stared out from beyond the bushes at absolutely nothing.

Jaina regarded him with combined irritation and confusion, she batted half-assedly at his ward, which made a low, hollow sound; "_What_," she muttered while catching her breath, "_What are you—_"

She looked out from beyond the bushes, but saw nothing there which would have made him stare; it was just the regular garden, with just guests walking through, she wondered what he had up his sleeve. _Is it ley lines?_ she wondered, _though she didn't feel any_; _is it some demonic power he can sense...?_

Maybe this was something to do with the blood elves' infamous addiction; _maybe he really was crazy, like people had said_. Either way, she was at the ready to restrain him again.

But there came no outburst after that, he merely stood and looked on; when Jaina turned to ask something else, the words never came. It occurred to her _she'd seen him like this_, _just the other night, when he'd told her outright he had loved her_.

At the direction he'd been staring there was a small group of what looked like Kaldorei priestesses, but it wasn't they who had Kael's attention; it dawned on Jaina that _Master_ wasn't Kil'jaeden at all.

"_That's Illidan, isn't it_," she asked, her fingertips slid smoothly along the outline of Kael's ward, and her voice sounded with audible disbelief; _he had just looked so different, she'd never have recognized him_.

It appeared that even before going _demon_, he'd been quite tall, his eyes glowed bright amber and his hair had a dark and silky, heavy shimmer that fell around him like a veil.

The naked innocence of it came to Jaina completely unexpected; it occurred to her that _at the absence of anyone else older or wiser, the child prince of Quel'thalas had turned to very old relations for guidance_.

She could tell Kael had recognized Illidan's magic even now, without the demonic powers he still didn't have; she didn't know what exactly had happened between them, or why they'd parted ways— but whatever reasons Kael had,_ it was evident in the end he'd bled despite them._

_Had he come to repent?_

All the while, Kael hadn't said a word; his gaze caressed Illidan with intangible affection, with a sort of love he hadn't known until it was gone.

Illidan had never told him outright he'd been fond of Tyrande, but Kael knew of him the unspoken and intimate, he'd felt the forbidden, fragile heart everyone knew the Lord of Outland didn't have.

_He must be happy tonight_, Kael'thas thought, _now that he's stood by her side_.

_Have I ever seen him truly happy...?_

On looking closely now, he could see discreet little gestures, Illidan briefly touched Tyrande's shoulder, his teeth flashed candidly when he smiled— _it was a curious thing to behold, like Kael had never truly believed Illidan was ever really Kaldorei_.

"_His eyes_," he finally spoke to Jaina directly; "_his eyes— were amber_—"

XXX

Anduin hadn't realized how hopeless his Darnassian truly was until it was finally put to the test in this real-life setting; apparently, much as he'd impressed his tutors at Stormwind, his excellent scores did not translate to practical use. He could see people try with commendable effort to understand what he was on about when he'd asked _if anyone had seen a group of priestesses_.

"Their accent is impossible to understand...!" Anduin said to Wrathion with vast annoyance, "And they all speak so _fast_...!"

"Well, what did you think you were gonna do when you approached the High Priestess for your _testing_? She'd probably flunk you just for your crappy Darnassian."

"My Darnassian isn't_ crappy_."

"Could've fooled me."

"_You try it, then, you talk to them._"

"Maybe I will."

"Great, go for it."

"I will. I am."

Wrathion stood for some moments and examined the crowd, like he was trying to_ pick out his prey_; finally, he approached a group of night elves stood by the dessert table and asked very charmingly in draconic _whether they agreed that Anduin was dressed like a complete asshat_.

Anduin's draconic had been put to use much more frequently than his Darnassian, and he understood everything; he tugged Wrathion hard by the wrist. "_Okay, I get it_," he whispered angrily, _"you don't want to be here_."

_Also, I should have just used draconic_.

"If you think I'm going to _lead you to those priestesses_, you've got another thing coming," Wrathion said, "I'm completely opposed to that, and I'm going to stop you if it's the last thing I do."

"Stop me from what?" Anduin flung his arms to his sides, "They're involving me so I can _purify_ the Dragon Soul...!"

"_They're involving me so I can purify the Dragon Soul!_" Wrathion mimicked Anduin's words in a ridiculous and high-pitched tone, while waving his fingertips around; "You shouldn't even _be _here, this isn't even your _business_, you're _nosey_— you're _self-righteous_— not to mention _ungrateful_—"

"Oh!" Anduin huffed, "_Oh!_ _I'm_ self-righteous?! _Me?!_"

"_Pff— hello?! _You are like— the _embodiment_ of self-righteousness—"

"You— _absolute_— I'm gonna like—"

"Go for it, smite me like _right here_, that'll look _real _great to the priestesses, not to mention the queen or whoever..."

"_Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?_ I bet you'd just _love_ to see me screw up in front of the priestesses—"

"What I'd _love_ is for you to _go back home and stay out of my business—_ "

"_I bet you would— I bet you'd just love that— _and what the hell do you mean, I'm _ungrateful_— what exactly have I not been _grateful _for? No, really, _enlighten me, oh great one,_ what is this elusive and mysterious thing you've done for me that was just _soooo_ great that I haven't properly expressed my gratitude for? Was it what _amazing _company you are at parties, _because I must have somehow missed that part—_"

Wrathion's eyes appeared alight with living fire, _like he was gonna devour him any minute_; he said nothing for some time, then quietly muttered, "_And here I could've sworn you were awake enough to have remembered it, you certainly seemed to enjoy it enough_."

"W— _what are you—_" Anduin regarded him with confusion, until understanding finally set in; _he meant that time in the cave, when Wrathion went down on him_.

"Oh," he said quietly, now suddenly shy; he couldn't help smiling a bit, before he remembered he had to look angry; "Well— but I did thank you for that, _why are we on about that now?_"

"Oh, you _thanked_ me! Yeah, that's great, Anduin Wr— _Anduin_, what I wanted in return for that was totally just _being thanked_."

"_You just said you wanted to be thanked!_"

"_By the Titans, you're so stupid!_"

"_What the hell! Why am I the stupid one!_ _You're the one who's stupid!_"

"Oh, right, Anduin, whatever you say. _I'm_ stupid, and you're, like, this— completely _perceptive _genius who just_— understands— everything—_"

"That's not what I said! I never said I understand everything—"

"Well, you _act_ like you do—"

"I don't act like I understand everything!"

He'd been partway to whatever poisonous words he had prepared next when something occurred to him: _was Wrathion just pissed because that night he, Anduin, never finished him off? _Was that what he was trying to say with _what I wanted in return was totally just being thanked_?

He paused where was stood and regarded him for some moments; then, very quietly, he mouthed, "Are you— upset because— I didn't— because that night— after you— you know—"

Now Wrathion flushed; he got his arms crossed and looked aside moodily, he felt his ears burning hot; "_Well, obviously_," he stammered. "I mean— _what, you only realized that now—_"

Now Anduin flushed, too; "_Oh_," he said stupidly; "Oh— well— that is— you could have just said something—"

"_Yeah, well— yeah— well— like— you should have known on your own—_"

"Well— how would I know— if you don't say anything—"

"Pff! How would— _it's only polite—_"

"W—_what kind of_... Okay— okay, know what— okay, _fine_. _Maybe you have a point_."

Now Wrathion regarded Anduin suspiciously out the corner of his eye; they both appeared terribly awkward.

"Well, so you'll do it?" Wrathion asked without shame.

"What? Well— _that is— yeah_."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah, I mean, I guess I owe you— so—"

"Okay," Wrathion nodded, his mood appeared visibly improved; "_Yeah, okay, that's cool_."

_(On to Chapter 15)  
><em>

XXX

_A/N: I would love to find someone interested in roleplaying Warcraft lore, especially Wrathion/Anduin, though there are a lot of lore characters I like. I've had a very difficult time finding anyone interested in this, as WoW fangirls usually like RPing their OCs (which I'm not interested in doing). It's cool by me if you're not completely versed in the lore, I'm not a die-hard lore person, myself, and it's something you can read about a bit at a time as necessary. If you're over 18 and feel like giving it a go, please message me! _


	15. Chapter 15

Azshara had been watching Illidan, too; she was utterly smitten, it was a sort of helpless surrender to which even the strongest weren't impervious— and Vashj had tried as best she could to be patient about it. "Az, you have to be on stage in like two minutes," she said, "if you want me to spell him for you..."

"No! No, it's fine, I'm going," Azshara replied, "don't spell him, it's cool."

As for Anduin, ever since the _little misunderstanding_ between him and Wrathion had cleared, he'd felt they'd got on much better; _there's no reason to see the priestesses straight away_, he thought, _maybe we can just enjoy the party for a while— not like I won't be meeting with them tomorrow_...

He'd thought of what Ysera had said, of how the _portal_ he'd seen was actually a vision; it had strengthened her conviction that Anduin possessed latent prophetic abilities, and though he might not have liked to think of it, it had made him uneasy. _He wondered if the vision foretold the way the Legion would invade Azeroth someday_.

He knew better than to speak of it to Wrathion, though, he was wary of ruining what good relations they had— and, also, he worried about what the vision might mean in the first place. Would this be the future that would result if Wrathion failed in his mission? Or possibly if he, Anduin, was prevented from purifying the Dragon Soul...?

He was distracted from his thoughts by music that sounded some distance away, the queen was making her way up the stage steps; they had a better view of the performance from here on the lawn. Once she had reached the highest platform, Azshara beamed at the crowd and raised one hand in the air.

"_All the druids, say yeah!_" She called; some discordant shouts issued from the audience in response."I can't hear you!" Azshara cried, "_All the druids, say yeah!_"

The shouts came much louder that time, and soon Azshara was joined by another night elf woman.

"All the sorcerers, say yeah!" the other woman called, and amidst the fervent responses someone shouted, "_What about us!_"

"I was just getting to you lot!" Azshara called, "_All the priestesses, say yeah!_"

Anduin actually thought about shouting along with them when it occurred to him there were no other male priests around; _he suddenly felt very daft_.

Azshara then pointed toward the upper balcony and smiled, "And I hear Ysera is also with us tonight, with some dragonkin guests! _That's okay, Big Mama, you don't have to shout all the way from up there!_"

At that, many people in the crowd turned to look toward the upper terrace; clearly the green dragonflight were guests of honor.

Up on the balcony, Ysera turned smugly to her consorts; "Told you I'm a cool mom," she said in a very nerdy-mom way; she then turned toward one of the dancing boys and pointed two thumbs to herself. "_I'm Big Mama,_" she informed him with her best approximation of a seductive wink.

"_Oh my Titans, Mom, you did not..._" Merithra, one of Ysera's brood, sank into her seat in utter humiliation; Ysera raised an eyebrow, now suspicious that her daughter had been ogling the dancer, too. "You're too young to date," she said, "_no boys_."

_She totally said it right there in front of the dancing boy, too_.

"_OMT, Mom, why don't you just— tell the whole world—_"

Up on the stage, Azshara got one arm amicably around Vashj's shoulder; she called out, "All right! With me as always is my homegirl, Lady Vashj— who totally redid my markings after I screwed them up earlier—anyway, enough of my rambling, you're here for the contest!"

Her voice was drowned by the cheers that came for Vashj; there also were a few _for Azshara_s, journalists busily worked on arcane portraits of the two women's outfits for their fashion columns.

"_Jaina_," Kael'thas said softly, "_Look, that's Lady Vashj_."

He squinted with something like disbelief, _he'd never seen her as a night elf before_; Vashj had been like a big sister to him, her armies had saved him and his magisters from imprisonment and certain death_. It was sweet somehow, the way Azshara said Vashj had redone her markings_, because this was how Kael had remembered her, too: she had been levelheaded and clever, the voice of reason that stood against Illidan's moods.

It occurred to him she must have been like a big sister to Azshara before she'd been like a big sister to him.

"Wrathion," Anduin said, "Look, they're doing a contest."

The entire evening he'd been trying to figure out some way he could casually take hold of Wrathion's hand, or do _something_ date-like; his fingers slid tentatively on his, but he was too far intimidated to do more. He was now relatively certain, though, that Wrathion's temper had improved enough it was okay to talk about casual things like parties and contests.

Wrathion's gaze wandered down momentarily to where their fingers brushed, but then he immediately looked away— but, still, he didn't seem annoyed by Anduin's comment. "Well, let's hear what kind of contest it is," he said.

Anduin smiled despite himself; _could it be they might actually have a good time...?_

Jaina noticed that Kael seemed to search through the crowd, _she wondered if he was looking for Illidan again_— like he'd sensed his magic, and now he was trying to pinpoint where he was.

_Ah— just there_— Kael'thas could see him far off, in a small group some distance away; he was speaking animatedly with another guy, and Kael realized it was Malfurion. It was now apparent they really were twins, they actually _had_ looked quite similar— Malfurion also was slender and tall, clean-shaven, his hair was similar to Illidan's in everything but color. Tyrande was stood between them, and, despite what Kael had always been made to believe, _she appeared equally fond of them both_.

Now, then; of course, from that distance away there was no way to know— but Kael had always envisioned that between the Stormrage twins there was something like his own jealousy of Arthas. He imagined Tyrande wouldn't have noticed Illidan at all, which would seem _extra _unfair considering the brothers were really so similar— but unlike the way Jaina had once been completely oblivious to Kael's existence, Tyrande seemed to like both Malfurion _and_ Illidan, she was stood between them with one arm around each, and Kael wondered how it was that she'd supposedly rejected Illidan in the end.

_They do seem happy_, he thought; _Master and his brother don't seem to hate each other at all_.

_He wasn't certain why it got his eyes damp._

XXX

Anduin wasn't really paying attention to the queen's explanation about the contest or the prizes she had to give away; he was carefully trying to figure out the best way to make use of Wrathion's agreeable temper, _he didn't want to waste this night_.

"Pretty crowded here, isn't it?" he asked in his best attempt at casual observation; he said nothing about _finding the priestesses_.

"Yeah," Wrathion said, "it's like the entire Kaldorei populace is here tonight."

"Just about," Anduin replied, _he sounded really dumb to himself_; "You wanna— like— I don't know— maybe go someplace— more quiet...?"

_Crap, what am I saying? That totally sounded like I'm trying to get him alone and... and..._

"Trying to get me alone, are you?"

"_No. I'm just saying it's really loud here_."

"What about over there?"

"_I don't know why you have to— why every time— why you always think—_"

"Over there— see—"

"Where— over where?"

He noticed that Wrathion was pointing to a distant waterfall high in the mountains, and wasn't sure he really understood.

"What—" Anduin asked, "Up _there?_"

"Yeah, bet there's a pretty good view from up there."

"What do you mean, I thought we were looking for a place to go now?"

"We are, I could get us up there."

"Wh... you can't be serious..." Anduin regarded the distant hills; _the waterfall seemed pretty high up_.

"I'm a dragon, remember?

"Y...yeah... but..."

"You're not _scared_, are you?"

"N...no... b—ut— it's just— I mean— you'd, what— _carry _me?"

"Well—" Wrathion straightened with an air of official elegance; "I'm not some kind of _taxi _service or anything— but— if you asked_ politely_... since we're friends..."

_We're friends again_, Anduin thought,_ he said we're friends_.

He couldn't help smiling; "Well— if you don't mind— that is— if I'm not too heavy—"

"Pff! You saw me in my true form, I could easily carry you."

Anduin's gaze lingered on the waterfall high in the hills; truth was, the notion of flying all the way up there was pretty intimidating, especially considering he'd never ridden on Wrathion's back before— _but, all the while, it seemed exhilarating exactly because he'd be riding on Wrathion's back_.

Despite himself, he grinned timidly, he absently ran one hand through his hair; "Okay," he said, "Yeah, sure, that could be fun— let's do that."

Now that Anduin had accepted, Wrathion found himself faced with the reality that he'd _really have to carry him_— and though he'd carried others a few times before, _for some reason the fact that this time it would be Anduin had got him shy_.

He coughed and said, "All right, yeah, let's—"

He paused in order to have a look around, but there was no good place to go for him to change to his true form; the courtyard was completely packed. He tried to figure out some possible path to get out of that area.

"Come on, through here," he said.

And while that entire evening Anduin had tried to think of some way to get Wrathion's hand in his, here Wrathion just _took hold of him_ like it was nothing at all— he tugged him through the busy lawn, and Anduin followed as though in a daze. The breeze swept through their hair and clothes as they waded in-between, and Anduin felt like _he didn't really care where he was led_— the rush of being tugged this way had him boyishly excited for adventure.

They wove through the gardens and the shrubs at their edge, and _Wrathion's hand felt large and warm_, his fingers were long and slender; Anduin watched his straight black hair shimmer behind him as he ran, his golden hoop earring glittered against the angle of his mandible.

_Is Wrathion my boyfriend?_ He wondered, _are we— do we—_

He'd not really paid much attention to the journey they'd made, they'd ultimately stepped into a little orchard where the trees bore round and bluish fruit; a pleasant scent wafted in the air, the leaves rustled softly.

"Here's good," Wrathion said, his voice hitched just a little; _he felt inexplicably nervous to do this_.

Anduin paced a few steps before him, his fingers trailed absently along the bark; the cheers and shouts from the lawn came more discordant now.

Wrathion asked, "Right, well— so I'm gonna change, okay?"

Anduin flushed despite himself, he nodded rapidly and wondered _why this made his pulse go fast_.

At that, Wrathion didn't stall any longer; he changed to his true form, and tried his best to look regal— _but there was his heart rate, still unnervingly rapid_.

"Right—" he said, he held his head high with what he hoped passed for _grace_, _he was almost certain his horns were impressive— there was no way Anduin wouldn't be impressed with his majesty then_—

As for Anduin, he remained where he was, one hand still loosely fingering the tree's bark; it wasn't the first time he'd seen Wrathion in his true form as a grown drake, but it was overwhelming again just the same.

_He really was... a very majestic dragon_. In the dimly-lit orchard, his scales seemed to shimmer more than that time at the cave, they were dark but also iridescent somehow— as though light and color played through their black surface in some enchanted illusion. In a sense he was also a daunting presence, but visibly wise, Anduin felt he wanted very much to trace his hand along his scales—

_But it was Wrathion, he couldn't just do that_.

They both had become curiously shy about _having Anduin climb on_.

Anduin didn't want to just _invite himself _to do so, and Wrathion felt there was no way to ask him to ride without sounding _really dumb_.

"Well—" Anduin coughed, "Do I just— that is—"

"You— _you have to ask politely_," Wrathion stammered, "_I'm not some— don't think you can just—_"

"Right, sorry, sorry— ah— so— so can I— _may_ I—_if you would be so kind— as to— do me the honor—_"

But it turned out Anduin's strained formality was even more awkward and difficult to endure than if he'd just asked normally; Wrathion interrupted him partway through and said, "That's good, very well, _just get on_."

"Oh— well— _all right_—"

"I— guess I should probably—"

Wrathion lowered himself a bit closer to the ground to make it a bit easier; then, he fought hard as he could for elegant composure _while Anduin bloody climbed on his back_.

_It's cool_, he tried telling himself, _what's the big deal? We already did all that stuff..._

_But there were Anduin's hands, warm and human and touching his back all over; _he could feel the weight of him, the way he adjusted himself, _the slide of his legs and his thighs_—

_It was curious, how light he really felt_.

He was slender and strong, his limbs moved into position with practiced grace, _undoubtedly trained review order etiquette that came second nature after years of court decorum—_

_It was unexpectedly humbling somehow_.

"Okay— so— are you set?" Wrathion asked, he thought he felt a bit lightheaded;

"Yeah— yes— is— this all right? Not too heavy, am I?"

"No! No way— you're— _really very small_."

"Oh..." Anduin said shyly; "Well— all right. Just— _don't fly in some crazy way—_ "

Wrathion might have made fun of him for being scared, but none of that came now; he merely consented, suddenly very self-conscious of delivering a smooth and _majestic_ sort of ride.

_What if he doesn't hold on tight enough?_

_What if he slips up and falls— and it'll be my fault for dropping him—_

He stalled for some moments while thinking this through, and finally decided _he'll be really careful about making sure Anduin stays up on his back— and if he notices he starts falling off or something, he'll just kind of shift— and if worst came to worst and Anduin actually fell, he would definitely catch him, like really fast with his claws..._

"All right," he finally said, "So— hold on very tight— you holding on? _Okay— I'm going_."

_To be continued..._

XXX

_A/N: I would love to find someone interested in roleplaying Warcraft lore, especially Wrathion/Anduin, though there are a lot of lore characters I like. I've had a very difficult time finding anyone interested in this, as WoW fangirls usually like RPing their OCs (which I'm not interested in doing). It's cool by me if you're not completely versed in the lore, I'm not a die-hard lore person, myself, and it's something you can read about a bit at a time as necessary. If you're over 18 and feel like giving it a go, please message me! _


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